


Something So Flawed and Free

by usasarah



Series: Move Me [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Anakin Skywalker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28179360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usasarah/pseuds/usasarah
Summary: Obi-Wan has never been the first choice.(Or in which a persistent Anakin Skywalker begins to court his oblivious Master.)
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Move Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088969
Comments: 283
Kudos: 1328
Collections: Star Wars Alternate Universes





	1. Preface

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I really shouldn't be starting a new fic when I haven't touched my other one in a while BUT I'm rewatching the prequels after a LONG time and fell in love with obi wan and anakin, so this is my pouring out my feelings. This is my second fic on here and first for this fandom so please be gentle and let me know you feel :)

The fire from Qui-Gon’s pyre burned brightly, casting a flickering glow across all those in attendance to bid farewell to the Jedi Master. The Jedi Council, Queen Amidala, the newly-elected Chancellor Palpatine, and others looked on in heavy silence, their faces alight with reds and oranges. Obi Wan hugged his cloak even tighter across his body and pulled his hood even lower, seeking a warmth that not even the flames provided. A paralyzing coldness had begun to sink into his bones, a coldness that had formed in the pit of his stomach and had slowly moved into his chest, making every breath the newly knighted Jedi exhaled ache as realization finally settled.

His master was gone. And despite his recent reassurances that Obi Wan was ready to assume the mantle of a Jedi Knight, Obi Wan could not help feeling overwhelmingly inadequate. When the two of them had gone before the Council with little Anakin Skywalker to hear his fate, it had become quite obvious that Qui-Gon’s belief that he was ready to move on had stemmed from his desire to take the little boy as his padawan.

To abandon him.

Obi Wan could not help but take in a shuddering breath as something dark and cold twisted in his chest. He felt Anakin’s curious gaze fall on him, but he refused to meet the boy’s gaze. He couldn’t. Obi Wan let his eyes fall shut for a moment as he soothed himself.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

Obi Wan berated himself. It was silly to entertain the idea that Qui-Gon had abandoned him. There could be no abandonment because there was no attachment. Obi Wan was twenty-five, and he had known since the moment that Master Jinn had taken mercy on him, the poor omega boy from Stewjoni, and made him his apprentice when no one else offered, he would one day leave him and go on his own missions.

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

However, nothing could quite prepare Obi Wan to lose his Master so brutally and abruptly. Jedi lived dangerous lives in service to the Republic, but the omega had never pictured that his Master would lose his life to a Sith with a hauntingly red saber—Darth Maul. Those acidic yellow eyes had been permanently etched into his mind.

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

A part of him regretted finishing off that Sith in such a brutal manner for it was not the Jedi Way, but another part of him—a darker part—wished he had made the monster suffer longer. Obi Wan had an inkling that his actions were the source of this coldness currently swirling inside him now. When he got back to his quarters, he would mediate and release these turbulent feelings of _abandonmentfearangerloss_ into the Force.

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

The omega opened his eyes once more, bleary blue-green eyes blinking owlishly at the pyre. He allowed his gaze to fall upon Anakin, the young Alpha who had yet to tear his eyes away from the new Jedi Knight. Obi Wan hoped that his expression reflected one of calmness and serenity; the boy would need it after such a chaotic few days of being freed from slavery, leaving his mother, and witnessing battle for the first time at age nine.

“What will happen to me now?” Anakin asked, his voice filled with both loss and confusion.

Qui-Gon’s dying words whispered themselves into Obi Wan’s thoughts. _He is the Chosen One. He will bring balance. Train him._ As Obi Wan had clutched his Master, his Force Signature desperately reaching out to grasp Qui-Gon’s own as it rapidly receded, he had no idea what to expect of the Alpha’s last words. Words of reassurance perhaps. Or ones of praise or calm. A selfish part of him hoped that his Master’s last words would be about him. He had faithfully followed his Master across the galaxy for more than a decade, taking in all his lessons, doing whatever was asked of him, and fighting and working by his side.

But his last words were not about Obi Wan. His Master’s last gasping breath had been spent pleading for Obi Wan to train Anakin, a boy he had only known for a few days.

He should not have been surprised.

Obi Wan has never been the first choice.

While he had shown himself to be a capable fighter and competent Force user as an Initiate, there were few Jedi that had desired to take him on as a padawan for a litany of reasons all unbeknownst to young Obi Wan at the time who had simply understood that he was unwanted. It was by the grace of the Force, Obi Wan believed, that Qui-Gon had arrived back to the Temple after an unusually long assignment that had lasted a little more than a year and had decided to take him under his wing before the omega was sent to the AgriCorps. It was a stroke of luck.

So when Qui-Gon had stumbled upon little Anakin Skywalker on the desert planet of Tatooine and had suddenly become infused with a new and profound sense of hope for he claimed this young slave was the Chosen One, an oppressive sense of inadequacy had descended upon Obi Wan. It was only made worse when the three of them had gone before the Jedi Council, and Qui-Gon had proclaimed he would train the boy while Obi Wan had stood awkwardly to the side, realizing his master had already disregarded him.

  
It all hurt, and Obi Wan could not help feeling a little jealous, but he understood with almost frightening clarity. As he looked at little Anakin, he could feel no hate or anger. The Council spoke of the boy’s clouded and dangerous future, but as Obi Wan looked into his padawan’s blue eyes, almost glowing in the firelight, he suddenly felt a new sensation, a sensation that seemed to melt the coldness filling Obi Wan.

Fondness.

He gave Anakin a small smile, genuine but pulled tight with a new responsibility weighing on his shoulders.

“The Council has granted me the permission to train you. You _will_ be a Jedi. I promise.”

Anakin turned back towards the pyre, his Force signature which had been pinched by sadness and confusion now singing of a new emotion. _Disappointment_. The two had not yet established a training bond, so it was difficult to have an accurate read, but the little boy was unknowingly projecting. Obi Wan would not let himself be hurt by this. It seemed that he was neither Anakin’s first choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how ya feel :)))) drop a comment and tell me what direction you think this is heading or things you would love to see (i posted this fic on impulse and didn't really plan any direction for this )


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the character tags are there tentatively btw, I am still not sure who will be showing up in this fic 
> 
> there will be no underage stuff going on in this fic as well. while some feelings might develop (mostly on Anakin's part) while Anakin is underage nothing sexual will take place. 
> 
> and thank you for the warm responses I have seen so far, they are greatly appreciated and inspire me to write more!

Obi-Wan soon learns that Anakin is _most_ generous with touch and affection. Obi-Wan presumes it is a consequence of the boy starting his training late, having grown up with the constant presence of a loving mother who no doubt was free and liberal with her own affection. It would be endearing if it was not concerning. 

Affection is a precursor towards attachment, a dangerous trait for a Jedi to have. 

Qui-Gon, for how often he disregarded the Council, their opinion, and the Code, had been firm about the dangers of attachment, which explained how distant and cold his Master tended to be throughout their travels and training together. There was no doubt that Qui-Gon had cared about Obi-Wan’s learning and development, dedicated to making the Omega the best Jedi he ought to be, but affection was foreign to the both of them, usually coming in fleeting words of praise or encouragement. A hand on the shoulder was even more rare, usually saved for a comforting act of assurance after a close call or tiring battle. 

The closest Obi-Wan had gotten to his Master physically was when he held him in his arms back on Naboo, suddenly and _violently_ yearning for the tactile comfort of his Master, pressing his face insistently against his Master’s, feeling the fading warmth and shocking both himself and his Qui-Gon who reached out with shaking fingers to brush away a lone tear from Obi-Wan’s cheek. 

Beyond his Master, there was no one else whom Obi Wan had established a relationship with that dared delve into a physical realm, romantic or platonic. He had quite a few friends among the Jedi, but they, like him, were weary of affection and attachment. Even among his non-Jedi friends and comrades, he was solid with creating perfectly crafted boundaries. 

Until Anakin Skywalker of course. 

The boy was something else, all fiery passion and stubbornness. Despite his late start, he excelled in his lightsaber and combat training, attacking with overwhelming force and determination almost to his own detriment, leaving quite a few vulnerable spots that could easily be taken advantage of by his fellow padawans if they were quick enough. But they were not. Anakin lit up while sparring, eyes fierce and concentrated. He was far from perfect—too impulsive, too reckless, but Obi-Wan quickly saw what Qui-Gon had seen in him from the start: a great capacity to do good. 

He was the Chosen One after all. 

There were other areas where the boy struggled: meditation, respect, and most of all _boundaries_ . His hands often sought out Obi-Wan, gripping the thick cloth of his tunic or cloak whenever the two of them were in the presence of others as if seeking out some kind of anchor. At first, Obi-Wan found it humorous, letting out a small laugh and sending a quick _Anakin_ through their new, blooming Force bond. Anakin would huff but nevertheless unwind himself. 

It didn’t end there however. Anakin would surprise him with the frequent hug, shocking him every single time. In the morning when Obi-Wan was fumbling with breakfast, attempting to cook for the both of them, Anakin would pad in, small feet quiet against the floor but powerful Force signature absolutely radiating energy, and wrap his thin arms around the Omega from behind, nuzzling his face into the small of his back. 

The first time, Obi-Wan had jumped, so unused to the sensation of being _held_. He admonished the young Alpha who pouted and slid himself into the dining chair.

“Sorry, Master,” Anakin had mumbled, but Obi-Wan could tell he was not apologetic. The Jedi Knight turned back around, mind reeling. 

It was not the last time. 

After a particularly successful sparring match, Anakin would launch himself into his Master’s arms, grin so big and bright it rivaled the twin suns back at Tatooine. When Obi-Wan would arrive back to their quarters after being separated from his padawan to be sent on a mission that the boy was too young for, Anakin would be at the door in seconds, arms tight around his middle, whispering a quiet, “I missed you,” into the folds of Obi-Wan’s robes. 

Obi-Wan did his best to simultaneously discourage this outpouring of affection but not starve the boy of the touch he so obviously needed. He was a growing Alpha after all, and he knew that developing Alphas felt the need to claim what their instincts deemed to be their territory. And Obi-Wan was the closest to Anakin.

In response, Obi-Wan would hesitantly reach out, stiff arms attempting to rub soothing circles into the boy’s back. At times, he wished his body wasn’t flooded with suppressants. Perhaps, his stinted omega instincts could allow him to be more nurturing or at least his natural pheromones could have some calming effects. 

He tried to return most of these hugs, always followed with a sharp glance to remind Anakin of boundaries, but they were easily ignored. And if Obi-Wan were honest with himself, he began to enjoy their embraces after his initial shock and discomfort. As a Jedi, he never allowed himself to enjoy the soft things of life like hugs, but after a year into Anakin’s apprenticeship, he almost welcomed it. 

And then Anakin’s nightmares started.

Obi-Wan should have expected it. He knew life on Tatooine, on the Outer Rim, was grim, dark, and full of things no one, especially a child, should see, so one night, when the Omega’s bedroom door slowly swing open and Anakin softly shuffled in, eyes and nose red, Obi-Wan did not say a word. He simply lifted his covers, and the young Alpha crawled in, sniffling and hiccupping. He wiggled himself between Obi-Wan’s arms, pressing his face into the crook of his Master’s neck, seeking a scent that was sadly not there. Nevertheless, Anakin seemed to take comfort in Obi-Wan’s embrace, sighing softly after a moment and quickly falling into a dreamless sleep. 

And as their time together passed slowly, it became more often than not that Anakin would take refuge in Obi-Wan’s bed, and eventually Obi-Wan’s sheets, covers, and pillow smelled of Anakin. It was an ironic scent. The young Alpha’s scent was one of an oncoming thunderstorm, something warm and pleasant but also powerful and dangerous. _Petrichor_. The boy had come from a desert planet but smelled of the earthy and metallic scent that accompanied the first rain after a prolonged period of dry weather.

Obi-Wan knew there would be a time when Anakin would become curious about Obi-Wan’s scent, or lack thereof. It happened during one of these nights, Anakin curled against Obi-Wan’s chest, nose pressed into his nonfunctioning scent glands.

“Master?” Anakin called, his voice muffled by the fabric of Obi-Wan’s undershirt. 

The omega’s eyes slowly fluttered open, coming up from a place of not sleep but not quite awake. He yawned. “Go to sleep, my padawan,” Obi-Wan replied. “You’ve got training first thing tomorrow morning.”

Anakin twisted in his arms, taking in a lungful of air before exhaling it loudly. _Agitated. Confused._ Those were the feelings traveling through their Force bond at the moment. 

“What is it, Anakin?” Obi-Wan dared to ask, knowing neither of them were going to get a lick of sleep if whatever was perturbing the Alpha was not dealt with.

Anakin took another sniff and huffed. “Master, why do you always smell funny?”

Obi-Wan let out a short laugh, hand unconsciously coming up to smooth Anakin’s short but growing padawan braid. “I take suppressants,” Obi-Wan answered simply but it was obviously not enough to quell Anakin’s curiosity. 

“Suppressants? What are those?”

Obi-Wan supposed that not many could afford a luxury such as suppressants, especially on the Outer Rim. “I am an omega, so I take suppressants to mask my scent.” _And his heat_ , but that was not a topic that Obi-Wan desired to bring up currently. 

Anakin nodded slowly. To most, suppressants gave Obi-Wan the neutral scent of a beta, but to those with a particularly strong sense of smell, they could tell that it was artificial and fake, an omega parading as a beta. Suppressants were not technically mandatory for the few omegas of the Jedi Order, but _highly encouraged_. Beyond the Core Worlds, there were few planets and star systems that held omegas in equal regards to betas and alphas. Suppressants allowed Obi-Wan to perform his duties and not worry about his biannual heat. He had not dealt with a heat since his first as a padawan. 

“My mom is an omega,” Anakin shared, voice soft as if it was a carefully guarded secret. “People always treated her differently for it, but I was always there to protect her.”

Anakin looks up into Obi-Wan’s gaze, and even though it is dark in their shared quarters, Anakin’s eyes burn bright and fearsome, and with a voice uncharacteristically serious and strong, declares—

“I’ll protect you.” 

  
  
  


Anakin is fifteen when he experiences his first rut. He’s restless and grumpy, prowling around their quarters one second, locking himself in his room the next, and fiddling with droid parts in the next. Obi-Wan is glad that Anakin will not start experiencing the _other_ usual side effects that accompany ruts for about a year or two.

However, the desire for the Alpha to scent everything comes full force. 

And does not stop after his rut breaks. 

The two had just arrived back at the Temple after mediating a border dispute in the Mid-Rim. They were both tired, and the debriefing with the Council afterwards was equally exhausting. They stumbled into their quarters, and Obi-Wan was too busy entertaining the idea of falling asleep without properly undressing to prepare himself for his padawan to crowd him against the wall, growl pushing roughly from his throat. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan gasped as his back made contact with the wall. 

His hands came up on the Alpha’s shoulders, but he didn’t have the mental strength to push him away. Anakin was practically his height now much to the Omega’s chagrin. 

Anakin brushed his smooth cheek against Obi-Wan’s bearded one, a content purr rumbling from his chest before making quick work in scenting the Jedi Knight, nuzzling his face, neck, and ears. 

When he was done, he stepped back, smirk plastered across his face. Obi-Wan knew his face was flushed as he smoothed out his robes, trying to regain a semblance of control.

“How uncivilized, Anakin,” Obi-Wan admonished.

Anakin shrugged. “I didn’t have the opportunity to scent you these past couple weeks, Master. It was bothering me that you no longer smelled like me.”

_Wrong._

The word drifted through their bond, and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“I ask that next time you control yourself, my padawan. It is quite inappropriate for you—”

“But you _need_ my scent, so you are protected Obi-Wan,” Anakin whined. 

“I am a Jedi Knight. You have seen me wield this lightsaber, and I know _you know_ I am perfectly capable of protecting myself need be.” Obi-Wan pushed himself from the wall, suddenly realizing how close his padawan was, the scent of petrichor almost overwhelming now that it clung to Obi-Wan’s freckled skin. 

He made his way towards his bedroom, Anakin closely following.

“Master, you know I am not talking about in _combat_.”

Obi-Wan frowned. _If not in combat, who else would Obi-Wan need protecting from?_ He shook his head. It did not matter. He turned back around to place a comforting hand on Anakin’s shoulder. 

“Instincts are good, Anakin. Jedi need to rely on them in certain situations, but you need to learn how to not let your instincts control you.”

Anakin looked like he was about to argue, but Obi-Wan tightened his grip, and the Alpha relented. “Yes, Master.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Now go on and get a good night’s sleep.”

Anakin was sixteen when Obi-Wan started feeling _strange_.

There was no other way to put it. It started out as a sensation of something _wrong_ gradually transforming into an itchiness underneath his skin. Obi-Wan initially thought it was the Force notifying him of something, but the sensation was inward, coming from himself.

It began while he and Anakin were stationed in Corellia at the Chancellor’s request to witness trade negotiations and a possible treaty between the ruler of Coreilla and the Trade Federation. It was boring work, but it was a much needed break after chasing down smugglers who had somehow acquired quite a few kyber crystals and planned on selling them to dangerous entities. 

Corellia was a nice planet with temperate weather and lush plant life. He wished he could take his padawan to go exploring, but the two of them were stuck in the throne room as the Corellian King and his advisors bickered with Trade Federation officials. 

Anakin and him stood to the side. It was only the second day of negotiations, but the Omega was antsy, shifting his weight from foot to foot and absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. Despite his lectures of remaining poised and professional, he was failing miserably at both. 

Anakin stepped closer, leaning down into his space—when did his padawan grow taller than him?—whispering into his ear, “Everything alright, Master?”

Obi-Wan nodded, trying to take in a calming breath. 

_I can sense your unease_ , Anakin sent worriedly through the bond. 

_Merely bored and perhaps a tad tired, my padawan. Nothing to worry about,_ Obi-Wan lied. He had no idea what was going on with him, but he knew it was nothing to be worried about. 

In fact, now that Anakin was closer, and Obi-Wan could more easily breathe in his scent, he felt more relaxed, his skin not as tight. 

Anakin seemed to accept the explanation but did not back away, and Obi-Wan was grateful for that. He imagined sinking into Anakin’s chest, letting the Alpha hold him there as he drowned in the aroma of _rainmetalearthwarmth_. A thought he quickly dispelled as soon as it came, shocked that he had conjured up such an inappropriate image.

He nervously glanced up at Anakin, wondering if his shields had blocked such an embarrassing thought. The Alpha gave no indication he had seen what Obi-Wan had imagined, and the Omega breathed a sigh of relief. 

There was something wrong with him. 

Negotiations lasted for about a month, way longer for when they were scheduled, but Obi-Wan was grateful to travel back to Coruscant. His unease had worsened during the past month to the point where he had to pull his shields up even tighter to not bother his padawan. 

He rarely slept and his appetite had dissipated. He _craved_ the security of the Temple for the first time in a while. Their first night back in their quarters, Obi-Wan uncharacteristically slept almost the entire following day away.

It was unlike him, but he knew Anakin had to appreciate the time off and distance from his Master. 

The day after Obi-Wan told himself he would visit the Halls of Healing to have a checkup, but he ended up somewhere completely different: the crèche, where all the younglings lived and trained before being chosen as padawans. 

Master Yoda was often down there, and when he caught sight of the weary Jedi Knight he was surprised but welcoming, allowing Obi-Wan to facilitate his teachings. He appreciated it, mind suddenly becoming more clear and energized in the presence of the lively and bright younglings. 

It was hard to imagine that Anakin was once this small, so full of curiosity and light. Now, his padawan was almost a grown man. 

As their time on Croscuant stretched longer before the Council decided on their next assignment, Obi-Wan found that he was spending most of his free time down at the crèche, leading the pups through meditation sessions or adjusting their positions as they practiced their katas. It was one of the only other times that he felt at rest. 

The other times were when he was in the presence of Anakin. The smell of petrichor eased his new symptoms of aches and pains. If Obi-Wan had been more concerned about these new changes in his body and actually gone to see the Healers as he initially planned, then maybe he would have realized his current condition sooner. 

It would be a passing comment by Anakin that would have Obi-Wan coming to a jarring realization.

The two of them had just finished sparring in the open courtyard of the Jedi Temple training grounds, panting and sweating from the activity. Anakin looked at him curiously, attaching his saber back to his belt. 

“Master, you smell different,” he said simply. 

Obi-Wan stilled. “What do you mean?” he implored. 

Anakin cocked his head, studying the Omega closely, and Obi-Wan suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed under the Alpha’s focused stare. 

“You smell _different_. A good different, like flowers or—”

That was all he needed to hear before grabbing his discarded robe and notifying Anakin that he was free for the rest of the day. When he was sure he was out of sight, the Omega gave himself a tentative sniff and cursed.

_How long had his natural scent been leaking through?_

He tried to make himself small as he weaved through the winding corridors of the Temple, keeping his head down in the hopes nobody would recognize and stop him. When he arrived in the southwest quarter of the complex, he requested to see Chief Healer Che immediately. The young padawan healer nodded hurriedly, escorting him to a private room and telling him Healer Che would arrive shortly. 

Obi-Wan did his best to relax, but his mind was in overdrive and he began pacing the small interior of the infirmary room. Luckily, he did not have long to wait because two minutes later Healer Che, followed by the same padawan healer, entered, the door silently following shut behind them.

“Knight Kenobi, what brings you—”

She stopped, head tilting to the side in a similar manner Anakin had done earlier, assessing the situation. “Have you gone off your suppressants?” she inquired, scrolling through a data pad. “Your file notes that you had your last annual suppressant shot not even six months ago. Was this a mistake?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, it’s not a mistake. That is why I am here. I just...um...recently realized my scent had changed.”

Healer Che took in the information, motioning for the Omega to sit down, and Obi-Wan reluctantly did. 

“Well, this was to be expected,” the Healer began. “You have been taking suppressant shots since you were thirteen, and your body over the years has built an immunity towards the drug. I suspect you will enter heat soon. Have you been experiencing any other symptoms?”

Obi-Wan told the Beta about how he had been feeling the past month: the unease, restlessness, aches, and even his visits to the crèche. Talking out loud, Obi-Wan wondered how he could have missed the signs. 

Healer Che sighed and looked him in the eye. “There’s no doubt. Your body has been waning of the suppressant for a while, and you might enter heat anytime in the next few days. I will notify the Council of your status, so they can plan accordingly.”

“Cannot I take an extra dose? Thwart the heat?” Obi-Wan asked, hoping the Healer could not hear the panic rising in his voice. He had only experienced one heat so far in his lifetime, and it was not pleasant. 

Healer Che sadly shook her head, and Obi-Wan hated the pity sparkling in the Twi’lek’s blue eyes. “Obi-Wan,” she said slowly, “You’ve come to an age where your body is naturally seeking out a mate and pups. It is natural, and quite frankly, you have spent so many years repressed that I would advise that this heat is needed. After your cycle has passed, come back down, and I will give you a stronger dose.”

The Healer’s voice was soft but firm, and the Omega knew there would be no room for arguing. 

  
  
  


When Obi-Wan arrived back at Anakin’s and his shared quarters, he had hoped that his young padawan would be out. Every second that passed, Obi-Wan became more and more aware of his growing scent, and he decided that a thorough wash in the fresher would be much needed before he locked himself in his bedroom for however long it took for his heat to come and go. 

Nothing seemed to be going Obi-Wan’s way today however. Anakin stumbled from his own room as soon the Jedi Knight entered, holding an armful of his robes, tunics, and shirts. 

Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. “Laundry?” Obi-Wan asked, hoping nothing in his voice betrayed how he was feeling. He attempted to smoothly maneuver around Anakin and make a beeline towards his room, but the Alpha blocked his path.

A soft blush rose on Anakin’s cheeks, the pink nicely coloring his golden skin. Now, Obi-Wan was confused.

“Uh, no,” Anakin fumbled. “These are actually for you, Master.”

Obi-Wan stared blankly at his padawan. Anakin squirmed. 

“Well, after your abrupt departure earlier today, it wasn’t hard to piece together there was a problem with your suppressants. Your heat is starting soon, correct?”

 _Oh_. 

Obi-Wan coughed awkwardly. 

“Yes, Anakin,” he respondly, shortly. “I apologize for prolonging our time at Coruscant.”

“No need to apologize, Master,” Anakin responded, something soft about his voice. 

The two stared at each other from a moment too long before Obi-Wan cleared his throat again, hesitantly reaching out towards the bundle of clothes still hanging in Anakin’s arms. 

“And these are for….” the Omega trailed off. 

Anakin seemed to remember that he was carrying something, handing his clothes over and blush darkening. _Petrichor_ slammed into Obi-Wan’s senses.

“Your nest,” Anakin finished. 

Oh. _Oh._

Obi-Wan had forgotten that was something that Omegas tended to do, especially in heat. He had never built a nest even during his first heat, but now breathing in Anakin’s scent, he felt the overwhelming desire to bury and lose himself in the familiar and comforting aroma. 

Anakin must have taken Obi-Wan’s long silence as bad. “I-I just know that my mom enjoyed having familiar scents around her during her cycles. If I assumed—

“No, no,” Obi-Wan comforted. “I’m just shocked. Thank you, Anakin.”

Anakin seemed pleased that the Omega accepted his gift. Obi-Wan knew omegas in heat tended to enjoy the scents of their mate or family; he was glad that Anakin viewed him as the latter. 

“I also made sure that you have enough water and nonperishables in your room, so you wouldn’t tire yourself out too much, Master.”

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to blush. Anakin seemed more prepared than himself. 

He thanked his padawan again, disappearing in his room before he positively combusted under Anakin’s heavy gaze. 

He tossed the dark garments on his narrow bed, the idea of a shower long forgotten. Obi-Wan carefully knelt on the foot of the bed, lifting a black tunic to his nose with quivering fingers. His mind melted. 

Heat started to spread underneath his skin. 

  
  
  


Some days later when exhaustion hung heavy in Obi-Wan’s bones after brigining himself to unsatisfying orgasms countless times, whining and pawing at the sheets with the thoughts of nameless and faceless Alpha touching his heated skin and whispering sweet declarations in his ear, the heat finally broke. 

His body felt heavy and fragile all at once, his mind still floaty and far away but cognizant enough to recognize his heat was over. He practically fell out of bed to give himself a quick wash in the fresher before opening his door after days, body starving for actual food. 

He found his sixteen year old padawan slumped by the threshold of the door, snoring softly and droid parts scattered around him. 

“Anakin?” he questioned softly as he saw the Alpha stir awake, rubbing his eyes tiredly. His padawan looked up at him, grin breaking out on his face. 

“Master, are you feeling better?”

“Y-Yes, I am...what are you doing?”

Anakin looked around as if it was obvious. “I wanted to be close to you in case anything happened.”

The heat fog must not have completely receded because Obi-Wan was not sure if he was hearing his padawan correctly. 

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been here outside my door for the entirety of my heat.”

Anakin didn’t say anything, and Obi-Wan rubbed his face in disbelief. He was infinitely grateful for soundproof and scent proof rooms.

“Back on Tatooine, anyone would take advantage of an omega in heat. I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

Something sad and beautiful broke in Obi-Wan’s chest at his padawan’s words. The words of the Jedi Code whispered aggressively in the back of the Omega’s mind, warning of the dangers of attachment, but he easily brushed them off, knowing it was already too late. 

He was already attached. 

“Thank you, Anakin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave me a comment and let me know what you thought!! 
> 
> also please read "recognize you by touch alone" by amidnightlove, it inspired me to write this fic :)
> 
> also here is the link to my tumblr: https://listenupsluts.tumblr.com/  
> don't be shy and follow :)))))


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be on a roll, hopefully I can sustain my frantic writing lol
> 
> Thank you all for the love. I cannot believe this fic is almost at 300 kudos!!
> 
> This chapter is mostly just sad!obi, and next chapter the courting will actually start. I am not sure how many chapters there will be, but I want this to be a short fic, possibly 5-7 parts, but we will see. 
> 
> (BTW some scenes obviously borrow dialogue from episode II: attack of the clones, it is not my own)

Anakin was eighteen when Obi-Wan realized he was fucked.

They were both in the Temple training salle, thankfully alone, Obi-Wan standing to the side with his arms crossed over his chest as he assessed Anakin who moved gracefully through the traditional Djem So attack stances. 

Blue lightsaber ignited, Anakin’s muscles rippled as he transitioned from stance to stance. His shirt was off, and a bead of sweat rolled between his pectorals. The alpha bit gently at his bottom lip, fully focused and concentrated. 

Unlike his Master, who despite his cool and calm exterior, was freaking out. His heart was beating too fast, and his stomach doing little flips and kicks as he stared at his padawan. He _should_ be critiquing Anakin’s form, but his mouth was too dry, and he feared his voice may break if he used it. 

Not only was Obi-Wan fucked, but he was also ashamed, embarrassed, and practically a pervert. He should _not_ be looking at his padawan in this manner, should not be feeling these _feelings_.

But he could not tear his eyes away.

He had practically raised the boy, who was officially now a man. Taller than Obi-Wan, broader, and all that baby fat had disappeared from his face, leaving a chiseled jawline and perfectly carved cheekbones. 

Anakin looked at him expectantly as he finished practicing his stances. 

“Good,” Obi-Wan said simply. “Again.”

Anakin groaned. 

Obi-Wan needed to meditate.

  
  


A year later, the Council, at Chancellor Palpatine’s insistence, assigned them to be Senator Amidala’s bodyguards, an unusual job for supposed peacekeepers of the Republic, but Obi-Wan was glad to be reunited with the former Queen of Naboo. 

Anakin was full of nerves. 

Obi-Wan didn’t quite understand why until they finally arrived at Padmé’s apartment in the Senate building, seeing the Omega for the first time in ten years. 

“Ani?” she called out in disbelief, tender brown eyes sparkling with fond remembrance. “My goodness you’ve grown.”

Anakin stepped forward. “So have you...grown more beautiful I mean...well for a Senator I mean,” the Alpha fumbled.

Anakin’s Force signature was turbulent, and Obi-Wan could hardly decipher his padwan’s feelings, only knowing that he was unbelievably tense. 

“Our presence here will be invisible, my lady. I assure you,” Obi-Wan spoke, steering the conversation back to the topic of concern as the three of them, Jar-Jar, Captain Typho, and Padmé’s handmaiden seated themselves. 

“I don't need more security, I need answers. I want to know who is trying to kill me,” Padmé declared, voice serious.

Obi-Wan frowned. “We're here to protect you Senator, not to start an investigation,” he explained. 

“We will find out who is trying to kill you Padmé, I promise you.”

Obi-Wan turned sharply towards Anakin, who stared straight ahead, eyes never leaving Padmé’s. “We are not going to exceed our mandate, my young Padawan learner.” 

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan from the corner of his eye. “I meant in the interest of protecting her, Master, of course.”

“We are not going through this exercise again, Anakin. You will pay attention to my lead.”

“Why?”

Obi-Wan could barely contain his shock and anger. Sure, Anakin was brash and often disobeyed his orders, but never so openly, especially not in front of a member of the Senate. “What?” was Obi-Wan’s shocked response, not able to fathom any other words. 

“Why else do you think we were assigned to her, if not to find the killer? Protection is a job for local security... not Jedi. It's overkill, Master. Investigation is implied in our mandate.”

_Was Anakin lecturing him?_

“We will do as the Council has instructed, and you will learn your place, young one,” Obi-Wan stated, voice final. 

Later that night when the Senator had retired for the night, and it was just Obi-Wan and Anakin lingering in the living room, Anakin still talked of Padmé, easily shifting the conversation from his recent nightmares to the Senator. 

“I'd rather dream of Padmé,” the Alpha confessed. “Just being around her again is...intoxicating.” His voice was distant, dreamy, and a whole multitude of emotions surfaced in Obi-Wan.

The first was that Anakin should be careful. He spoke too openly of his fondness for the beautiful and young Omega. One might accuse him of attachment, a crime that Obi-Wan was shamefully guilty of but could at least easily mask it. 

The Council already kept a calculating and scrutinizing gaze on Anakin, his cloudy future unsettling the Masters. He did not have to give them more cause for concern. 

The second emotion, the more selfish emotion, was relief. 

Obi-Wan’s inappropriate attraction toward his padawan had been growing dangerously, the Alpha almost filling his every waking thought. Obi-Wan dreamed of tanned skin, blue eyes, and playful smirks. 

With Anakin’s renewed infatuation with the Senator, Obi-Wan would be forced to finally get over this embarrassing and shameful crush. 

“Mind your thoughts, Anakin, they betray you. You've made a commitment to the Jedi Order, a commitment not easily broken...and don't forget she's a politician. They're not to be trusted.”

They don’t talk for much longer than that, both sensing a warning in the Force. _The Senator was in danger._

When all was said and done, after the two of them had chased down the failed assassin, after the Council separated them, sending Anakin back to Naboo with Padmé and Obi-Wan to find this mysterious bounty-hunter, and after the three of them were almost brutally executed on Geonosis before being saved by a swarm of Jedi and Clones, Obi-Wan had _almost_ come to terms that Anakin and him were not meant to be.

The time apart from each other was much needed even though Obi-Wan was weary of his padawan going on his first solo assignment, especially when said assignment mandated that he go everywhere young Padmé went. 

Obi-Wan was somehow able to reflect when he wasn’t uncovering a secret facility manufacturing a clone army, being shot at by Jango Fett, or being captured by Count Dooku and his Separatists droids. 

How he had imagined a world where him and Anakin might leave the Order and be more than Master and padawan was beyond him. The Jedi was all he knew, and Anakin was destined to bring balance to the Force.

More than that, looking at the way _Anakin looked at Padmé_ had Obi-Wan reevaluating himself.

Obi-Wan was always conscious of the way he presented himself. He took care of his appearance, making sure his beard was always groomed and his auburn hair always presentable. 

But he couldn’t help but compare himself to the other Omega, and he knew he paled dramatically in comparison. Padmé was like the sun, her ethereal beauty demanding the attention of everybody, particularly Anakin’s. 

“Lower the ship!” Anakin demanded again as the gunship raced alongside Dooku in the speedster. Padmé had tumbled out when the gunship had lurched to the side after a large blast, and Obi-Wan could hear the fear in the Alpha’s voice. 

“I can’t take Dooku alone! I _need_ you,” Obi-Wan pleaded, voice rising over the harsh and brutal sounds of the battle below them. “If we catch him we can end this war right now. We have a job to do!”

“I don’t care, put the ship down!”

Obi-Wan was too concerned with catching Dooku to feel his heart breaking. 

“You will be expelled from the Jedi Order!” Obi-Wan warned. 

“I can’t leave her!”

Obi-Wan felt helpless. Both Obi-Wan's own needs and the threat of expulsion was not enough to convince Anakin. He knew what would. 

“Come to your senses,” Obi-Wan pushed. “What do you think Padmé would do if she were in your position?”

Anakin breathed heavily, and Obi-Wan assumed he was fighting against all his instincts to not launch himself out of the gunship in search for the other Omega. The Alpha clenched his jaw and nodded. 

“She would do her duty.”

  
  
  


They didn’t catch Dooku. 

The failure left a bitter taste in Obi-Wan’s mouth, but he refused to let his head hang low as Healer Che escorted him through the Halls of Healing, ushering him into Anakin’s room.

“He is just waking up,” she notified him softly, closing the door after the Omega. 

Obi-Wan only vaguely registered her words because all he could think was _AnakinAnakinAnakinAnakin,_ repeating over and over like a prayer in his head. 

The Alpha stirred from where he lay on the medical bed, and Obi-Wan did his best to walk calmly to his side as Anakin slowly sat up, groaning and running his flesh hand through his short, cropped hair. 

_His flesh hand_.

Obi-Wan’s fingers twitched, aching to reach out and touch his padawan, to comfort him, but he controlled himself. 

Anakin’s new cybernetic mechanical arm extended to his elbow where the cool, black metal met the scarred tanned skin. Anakin lifted his new arm, studying the way it moved in the dim light. 

The silence stretched thin until Obi-Wan was forced to say something, anything. 

“After you have recovered, you will be escorting Senator Amidala back to Naboo.” 

Anakin nodded, flexing each one of his gold-tipped fingers. 

“Count Dooku has unfortunately escaped, but the Council has already deployed a few Jedi to pursue and track his most likely locations. He won’t remain hidden for long.”

Anakin lowered his hand, brows furrowed. 

“Master, I—”

“I’m sorry.”

And it seemed everything came crashing down on Obi-Wan at once, an ugly burning sensation building up in his throat and tears burning at his eyes. _He could have lost Anakin, lost everything._ He was not sure when was the last time he cried. It wouldn’t be today. 

He swallowed his emotions. 

“I’m sorry, young one” he repeated, unable to meet his padawan’s eyes. “I wish had done more, been stronger, so I could have—”

“Master.” It was Anakin’s turn to stop the other. “Please do not blame yourself. If anyone is at fault for anything, particularly Dooku’s escape, it is I. 

Obi-Wan mustered the courage to finally meet his padawan’s gaze, and the look Anakin was giving him was strange as if he was looking at Obi-Wan for the very first time. 

He wanted to shake Anakin, scream at him that he was wrong, but then the Alpha was chuckling, a kind, genuine laugh reverberating from his chest. 

Obi-Wan looked at him as if he were mad, not finding anything humorous about the situation. Anakin shrugged. 

“I quite enjoy my new hand,” he revealed. “Isn’t it quite fitting that I am practically part droid now?”

Obi-Wan found that he did have the strength to laugh. 

  
  


Anakin was knighted a couple of months later, head held high as Master Yoda brought his fizzling green saber from one shoulder to the other. 

“By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, I dub thee Jedi, Knight of the Republic.”

Obi-Wan was honored to cut Anakin’s padawan braid, officially marking his transition into Knighthood. His heart swelled with pride as he witnessed his now former padawan learner rise from where he had been kneeling before the Council. 

He felt the power of the Force all around him, crackling with energy.

Obi-Wan’s own knighting ceremony had been rushed and lonesome, only in the accompaniment of Master Yoda. Instead of Master Jinn’s careful and sure hands, Obi-Wan’s own trembling fingers had cut his padawan braid, eyes glazing over with unshed tears as he thought about what could have been, what should have been. 

Anakin deserved the world and more, so Obi-Wan was infinitely grateful as Anakin pressed the severed braid into his former Master’s open palm, an unspoken word of thanks present in his eyes. 

“You should be proud of yourself, Anakin. Your hard work has been noted and appreciated.”

Obi-Wan wished he could have said more, something to truly convey his immense pride, but words always seemed to fail him when in the presence of the Alpha. It did not seem to matter too much for Anakin’s happiness was almost palpable in the Force.

Anakin’s smile was as blinding as it was magnetic. Simultaneously Obi-Wan felt compelled to avert his gaze but unable to do so as if he might miss something great. 

With Anakin’s knighthood, came the inevitable, and the two of them soon found themselves on opposite ends of the galaxy, commanding their respective battalions, as the Clone War continued to rage. 

This time, however, their time apart did little to ease Obi-Wan’s tumultuous thoughts. 

He had become content with the realization that he would never be Anakin’s choice, whether the Alpha became aware of his feelings or not, but his ardent love for his former padawan learner never dulled, never waned. 

His love for Anakin became a part of him as if it were a mere fact of life. 

The twin suns rose and set every day.

The Force existed in every living thing. 

And Obi-Wan loved Anakin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> actually courting to start in the next part hopefully! what do you guys hope to see? let me know what you thought about this chapter in the comments :)


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what you guys have been waiting for...courting (or at least the beginnings of it). more traditional courting like gifts and what not will be in the next part. 
> 
> warnings for masturbation at the end (in case you want to skip) and obi wan's general self esteem issues and self loathing (also at the end :) ) 
> 
> thanks for 400 kudos!!!

If the Republic was hoping for a swift end to the war and the defeat of the Separatists, they were mistaken. The war spread like wildfire, stretching to all corners of the galaxy, not even leaving the Outer Rim untouched. 

The Council was quick to realize that joint attacks were much more effective than the solo maneuvering of individual battalions, and soon Anakin and Obi-Wan were side by side again, the 501st and 212th Legion joining together as well.

They worked well as a team, and before they knew it, they were _The Team_ , the nickname sticking like glue. Obi-Wan was the ever-resourceful “Negotiator” and Anakin the dauntless “Hero With No Fear.”

The nickname was apt for his former padawan, but at times Obi-Wan wished that Anakin showed even a hint of prudence. 

Like now, for example. As General Loathsom’s droid army proved to be absolutely relentless on crystal planet Christophsis and reinforcements too slow, Anakin took matters into his own hands, assuring Obi-Wan that he had a plan of attack.

Well, Anakin’s plan of attack usually simplified down to just _attack_.

“What _is_ he doing?” Obi-Wan cursed under his breath, deflecting the blasts of the droids as Commander Cody directed the rest of the clones to assume battle positions to defend the capital city.

Obi-Wan watched with rapt fascination as Anakin leapt from one of the rooftops, landing on one of the octopus-looking tridroids and cleaning slicing through its brain before leaping to the next one, making quick work of the fifty-foot something droids.

Obi-Wan turned back to the battle laid before him, calling for the clones to advance as the droid’s heavy armaments fell. 

When they had successfully pushed back the B1s and B2s for the moment, Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, the reinforcements would arrive before the droid army could recoup and send a fresh wave. 

“Good work, Anakin,” Obi-Wan complimented absentmindedly, clipping his saber back to his belt. Their holoprojector was not advanced enough to transmit all the way back to Coruscant to notify the Council of their predicament, but perhaps the _Resolute_ , the closest Republic cruiser, could retransmit?

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

 _What?!_ Obi-Wan choked, blinking dumbly at the Alpha who only patted him on the back and proceeded over towards the city plaza, where the 501st and 212th had made base. 

Obi-Wan watched Anakin’s retreating form and shook his head. _He must have misheard him._ Anakin appeared way too relaxed as if he hadn’t called his former Master a...pet name of all things. 

Imagine that. 

Turns out, Obi-Wan had not imagined things. 

A week later, Obi-Wan and Anakin poured their collective energy into scouring and analyzing maps of star systems that had been rumoured to house General Grievous' lair. 

After Christophsis, Obi-Wan, thankfully, did not waste another second pondering about the little nickname Anakin might or might not have called him. He had other things to worry about, and he refused to allow his thoughts to be dominated by the Alpha again. 

Ahsoka, Anakin’s new padawan learner, yawned for what might have been the fifth time in two minutes. The bridge of the _Negotiator_ was nearly empty, filled by only the three of them and the night watch team. Anakin looked equally as tired as his padawan, eyes focused but obviously withering. 

Obi-Wan sighed. “You two should get some rest. We will need fresh eyes if we are to find Grievous.”

Ahsoka, who would have usually protested, nodded in agreement, droopy eyelids indicating her exhaustion. “Yes, Master Obi-Wan. See ya tomorrow, Skyguy.”

Obi-Wan bid the young Togruta girl goodnight. Anakin stayed put. “I was also talking to you,” Obi-Wan said, eyebrows raised. “I can still sense your weariness.”

Obi-Wan discovered he did not have the mental fortitude to break their Force bond like most Masters do when their apprentices reach knighthood. He reasoned that it was much more practical for them to remain in touch with each other’s emotions and Force signatures, but he knew the real reason was that he still craved the connection to his former padawan. 

“And I yours,” Anakin easily countered. “Once we find Grievous’ base of operations, I can sleep.”

Obi-Wan knew that the Alpha was agitated as General Grievous time and time again seemed to evade the Republic’s grasp. The Omega lowered his shields slightly, sending _trustpatienceconfidence_ through the bond. 

Anakin’s shoulders lowered and face softened. He looked over at Obi-Wan who gave him a knowing look. “Get some sleep, Anakin,” the Jedi Master insisted, and the man finally relented. 

“You’ve been up just as long, if not longer,” Anakin pointed out, fastening his cloak back over his shoulders. “You should rest as well.”

Obi-Wan glanced back at the clones currently on watch, and the Alpha followed his gaze. It would be best if he stayed up with them, at least just for a little while longer, and Obi-Wan knew Anakin understood with his expression. 

“Alright then,” Anakin said. He passed behind the Omega towards the direction of his quarters but paused, chest almost pressed into Obi-Wan’s back, and the Jedi Master could not stifle the little surprised gasp that left his throat.

With the War, Anakin’s touches became rarer and rarer, and he knew his body, which was once accustomed to his former padawan’s affection, was now starving for it. He coughed, hoping to cover up the embarrassing sound. 

He didn’t have time to be embarrassed; however, because Anakin was leaning down, dark golden curls tickling his ear as he whispered, “Goodnight, darling.”

Obi-Wan staggered, grabbing onto a nearby chair for support, his knees suddenly feeling weak.

_What the hell?_

When he had finally regained his balance, he whirled around to face the Alpha, but Anakin was gone.

Obi-Wan stood in the center of the bridge, heart racing. 

  
  
  


Anakin was teasing him.

It was the only viable explanation for the sudden barrage of nicknames. _Sweetheart_ and _darling_ were the most used, but Anakin would occasionally throw in _love_ , _sunshine_ , or _precious_ and even _baby_ and _princess_ at one point. 

They were usually whispered in the privacy of just one another, but Anakin was unabating in his teasing, and Obi-Wan _knew_ the Alpha liked to see him flush in embarrassment, especially in the presence of Cody, Rex, or Ahsoka. 

He was lucky his beard covered most of the redness. 

Cody and Rex thankfully never commented, only raising their eyebrows at the two, but Ahsoka also found it entertaining, snickering underneath her hand, and Obi-Wan had an inkling she was also in on this practical joke.

Most times, Obi-Wan pretended not to hear Anakin, not wanting to give the Alpha any satisfaction. Other times, he would simply glare, and his look conveyed enough.

He had no idea what prompted this teasing, so one day, he cornered Ahsoka, knowing with the right words, he could squeeze information out of her easily. 

It proved fruitless. 

“I don’t know, Master Obi-Wan,” she placated, raising her hands in surrender. Even now, she carried a little smirk. “I can assure you that Master Anakin and I are certainly not colluding with each other nor have plotted some secret scheme against you.”

“You don’t fool me, Ahsoka.”

“It’s the truth!” 

“Sure,” Obi-Wan said, disbelieving. “Then you must have some reasoning behind…” Obi-Wan waved his hands in the air, not sure how he wanted to frame Anakin’s teasing. Ahsoka understood. 

She cocked her hip and stroked her chin as if she was seriously contemplating. This young padawan was almost as infuriating as his former.

Anakin must be rubbing off on her, and not only in good ways. 

“Aha!” she rejoiced. “Perhaps, Skyguy _likes_ you.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. Of course, a youngling wouldn’t give him serious answers. “Funny.”

  
  
  


Eventually, Anakin decided on mercy. 

The nicknames did not cease, but the Alpha was abruptly...more kind?

Kind was not the correct word; Anakin had a fierce protective streak of all those considered _his_ : _his_ padawan, _his_ clones, _his_ droid. He would do anything for Ahsoka, the 501st, and R2-D2. _Padmé as well_ his mind supplied unhelpfully. 

But all at once, Anakin was showering the Omega with favors, none of which were asked for, but Obi-Wan found himself not complaining. 

It started with a simple offer to shine his boots and evolved from there: carrying cargo for him, repairing his armor after a battle, finishing Obi-Wan’s debriefing reports, and fixing his lightsaber when it started making strange sounds. 

Obi-Wan tried to bat him away, but Anakin was persistent. “Let me help you out, Obi,” he said. 

The Omega narrowed his eyes at _that particular_ nickname. “Obi- _Wan_ ,” he corrected but said nothing more. If the Alpha wanted to waste his time helping him out with pointless tasks, tasks that Obi-Wan was more than capable of doing on his own, so be it. 

The Jedi Master ignored the childish fluttering of his heart. _Anakin doing favors for him meant nothing._

In fact, the more Obi-Wan thought about it, the more suspicious he became that Anakin was up to something. 

“Okay, what did you do?” 

They were walking towards the ship’s bridge for a strategy meeting when Anakin offered to write down the notes, a job usually reserved for Obi-Wan. 

A look of surprise crossed Anakin’s face, quickly replaced with one of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been awfully nice to me of late. My only conclusion is that you’ve done something you shouldn’t have, and you’re softening me up until you tell me.”

His former padawan feigned injury, hand clasping over his heart. “I’m hurt, Obi-Wan,” he laughed, blue eyes sparkling. “Maybe I'm being nice because I want to and you deserve it?” 

_Deserve it._ He snapped his head forward and looked straight ahead. Obi-Wan couldn’t look into Anakin’s eyes anymore, and he wished he hadn’t mentioned anything.

A look into the Force told the Omega that despite Anakin’s relaxed manner, he was being serious. 

He didn’t know what that meant. 

  
  
  


Obi-Wan could handle the teasing nicknames and the strange kindness up to a certain point, but then the _touches_ started. 

While the touching wasn’t out of character, Anakin had learned to be somewhat more conservative with his affection since he turned eighteen and especially since becoming a Jedi Knight. 

He no longer scented his former Master at every opportunity—or at all—, and he _definitely_ did not crawl into Obi-Wan’s bed at night if he experienced any nightmares. 

That’s why the Jedi Master went absolutely rigid when a large hand settled on the small of his back as Cody debriefed them on new instructions from Command. 

The smooth tenor of Cody’s voice faded away as all of Obi-Wan’s concentration zeroed in on the burning heat of Anakin’s hand through his cloak and tunic. They were shoulder to shoulder, Anakin impossibly calm so no one suspected that the Alpha was currently rubbing soothing circles into his back with his thumb. 

Ahsoka peered up through her eyelashes at the two of them, perhaps sensing some tension in the Force, but quickly redirected her attention back to the Commander. 

Obi-Wan attempted to do the same, but all his attentiveness was used up by crushing the urge to squirm, so he turned his gaze towards the datapad in his hand. 

_What are you doing?_ Obi-Wan hesitantly sent through the bond. 

Anakin stilled his hand. _Am I making you uncomfortable?_

_No, of course not—_

“General Kenobi, your thoughts, sir?”

Ahsoka’s, Rex’s, and Cody’s questioning eyes turned towards him, and he finally turned his mind back to the matter at hand. 

Later that night, safely tucked away in his small cabin on the ship, the Omega allowed his thoughts to wander.

His feelings for his former padawan had been carefully secured in the back of his mind for more than a year, and he knew it was dangerous to allow them to flow freely again because they _would_ consume him. 

Anakin was like the sun, his gravitational pull too strong to fight against, but if he didn’t resist, Obi-Wan knew he would burn up. 

The Omega rolled to his side, wishing his mind would settle and that sweet darkness of sleep would pull him away, but after more than an hour of tossing and turning, he gave up. 

He kept on picturing Anakin’s hands, so big and gentle on the small of his back. He wondered how Anakin’s hands and fingers would feel elsewhere on his body. _On his shoulder, on his chest, gripping his thighs, in his mouth…_

Obi-Wan whimpered, mouth watering at the picture—Anakin’s long and thick fingers pressing against his tongue, the sides of his mouth, and the back of his throat.

He would be so good for him, wanted to be good for him, and wanted to know how the Alpha’s skin would taste, and it almost hurt it would forever remain a mystery to him. 

To quell his desperate and pitiful desire, Obi-Wan shoved two of his own slender fingers into the salivating cavern of his mouth. 

“Hmmph,” the Omega quietly moaned. He knew it wasn’t the same, but at least it helped his eagerness to be filled. 

If he closed his eyes, he could imagine.

With what was perhaps too much excitement, Obi-Wan kicked off his thin sheets and pushed down his underwear that he slept in with his free hand. 

Despite his age, he got hard embarrassingly fast at the thought of Anakin, all semblance of control and restraint vanishing within a second. As he grasped his flushed cock in hand, Obi-Wan gasped at the automatic shock of pleasure and the rush of slick that escaped him. 

It has been too long since he touched himself like this. 

“Ani... Anakin,” the Omega pleaded to the empty darkness, voice muffled by his fingers and setting a frantic pace with his fist.

He longed for his former padawan to press him into the bed; the solidness of his firm body touching all over him and grounding him. An impossible and disorienting ache overtook him, an ache for Anakin to be _everywhere, all around him, in him._

Obi-Wan’s wet fingers slipped from his mouth and reached behind him, prodding hesitantly at his slick hole. 

He imagined Anakin’s fingers there, pressing into him slowly, spreading him apart, and reaching until—

The Omega threw his head back in a silent cry, his orgasm suddenly taking him all too soon, leaving him shuddering and quaking in its aftermath. 

As soon as the pleasure washed over him and receded, the guilt hit him like a tidal wave. There was no time for a happy afterglow. Obi-Wan looked down at the evidence of his shame in his hand. 

A whole litany of words could be used to describe his indecency for masturbating to inappropriate images of the apprentice he raised, a former apprentice who was quite possibly in love with another. He settled on one. 

_Pathetic._

He hastily wiped himself off, feeling dirty and foolish. _Had he really let kind words and gestures drive him this far?_

He pulled the sheets up and over his head as if he could hide himself from his humiliating actions. 

He prayed that finally sleep would come.

It didn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drop a comment!! I love hearing your thoughts. Thinking of writing in Anakin's POV if* it fits and makes sense, would that be something you guys would look forward to or would you prefer this fic to be entirely Obi-Wan's POV?


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY, this is my favorite chapter....warnings for gift giving, painful tension, and hand-feeding 
> 
> thank you, my friends for 500+ kudos and 100+ bookmarks. Your support fuels my writing, and I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I did writing it

Avoiding Anakin actually worked for some time. 

They had yet another mission to liberate a neutral planet from Separatist control in hopes that said planet would in turn join the Republic freely, and Anakin was assigned to lead the strike force to clear the way for the rest of the two battalions. 

The whole grueling campaign lasted two weeks, where most of that time was spent destroying droids, perfecting battle strategy, and camping out in tents. 

Obi-Wan was only able to speak to Anakin in brief moments via holodisks to coordinate attacks and timing. The Omega was frank and to the point, not only because there was no time for small talk but also because every time he looked at Anakin, all he could think about was that night he touched himself to vivid, pornographic imaginations of his former apprentice. 

Even when the campaign was over and everyone was back aboard the Republic cruiser, he saw little of Anakin for a few days. Obi-Wan did not even realize how sparse Anakin’s presence had become for the Jedi Master was constantly keeping himself busy with work.

It wasn’t until he  _ needed _ Anakin for a holographic debriefing meeting with the Council back on Coruscant that he wished the man was not so elusive. 

_ Why wasn’t he answering his comlink? _

He was passing through the general quarters where all the clones were housed when he ran into a Captain Rex, casually posed outside a door. 

“Good afternoon, Rex,” Obi-Wan greeted politely as he rounded the corner. 

He halted when he saw the clone snap to attention as if his presence alarmed him. “Oh! Good afternoon to you as well, General Kenobi.” His eyes nervously darted around. “What brings you over here?”

Obi-Wan studied the Captain subtly.  _ Was Rex waiting for someone? _

“Just…passing through,” he answered slowly. “Have you seen Anakin by the way? He’s needed for a meeting, and I can’t seem to locate him.”

Rex scratched the back of his head. “I don’t seem to recall seeing General Skywalker. Perhaps he is with Commander Tano—”

Obi-Wan glanced away, realizing he could feel Anakin’s Force signature not too far away.  _ How had he not realized it sooner?  _ In fact, he could sense Anakin’s bright Force signature from behind the door…that Rex was currently guarding. 

“Are you sure he’s not in your room?” Obi-Wan asked, voice impeccably calm. 

Rex slowly turned around and regarded the door with an almost disbelieving scrutiny. He met his General’s eyes once more. “Now, that I remember,” he began delicately. “General Skywalker  _ did  _ tell me he had to make a quick private holocall and asked to use my quarters briefly, sir.”

Obi-Wan hummed, digesting the information. Rex’s gaze was quite curious as if he was awaiting the Jedi’s next move. 

“Would you mind if I—” 

The Omega reached forwards towards the door, attempting to sidestep the Captain, but Rex moved in his way, an apologetic smile on his face. 

“My apologies, sir. General Skywalker said he would be out any moment.”

Obi-Wan almost wilted, but he schooled his expression and threw Rex an almost icy glare instead. 

“Anakin will have to finish his call some other time then. The Council  _ is  _ awaiting, and Master Windu is not a patient man.”

Rex glanced side to side as if looking for a distraction before sighing. “Of course, General,” he relented, and Obi-Wan allowed himself in just in time to hear the soft, silvery voice of Padmé.

“Good luck, Anakin,” the blue hologram said before vanishing, and then Anakin with wide blue eyes was staring at him like a deer caught in highlights. 

“Master,” he casually greeted. 

For a moment too long, Obi-Wan stared at the spot where the holovoid had been and all of his suspicions were confirmed. 

“Senate business I presume?”

Anakin cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded strained. “Of course.” 

“The Council is requesting our presence. If you would answer your comlink, I wouldn’t have to go looking for you.”

Anakin glanced wearily down at the communicator attached to his belt with a wince. 

Obi-Wan turned briskly on his heel, missing the glare that the Jedi Knight threw Rex who could only shake his head in defeat. Anakin followed quickly, falling in step with his former Master. 

“Padmé has invited the both of us, including the 212th and 501st to Naboo’s annual independence festival,” Anakin said tentatively. 

Obi-Wan nodded. He knew said festival was fast approaching; it was the anniversary of Qui-Gon’s death at the hands of Maul. He could never forget. 

“The men would enjoy time off that was not at Coruscant,” Obi-Wan agreed. “And Ahsoka has yet to visit Naboo. It would be good for morale if the Council approved.”

“The Council has already approved,” Anakin hastily added. “And I would love it if you were there as well, Master.”

“I am much too busy to spend that much time away from the war effort.” Naboo’s independence festival was a week-long celebration. “At least at Coruscant, I can still make myself useful. Go without me,” he dismissed. 

Then suddenly Anakin was stopping him with two large hands on his shoulders as he turned the Omega to face him. The Alpha’s grip was tight, and Obi-Wan was reminded once more of how much larger Anakin was as he tilted his head to look up.

“I want  _ you _ there, and I know Ahsoka, Cody, Rex, and the others do too. You work yourself too hard, Master. You never think of yourself and your own desires.”

Obi-Wan decided now was not the appropriate time to lecture Anakin. There was no  _ room _ in the galaxy for what Obi-Wan desired. As Jedi, they were not supposed to desire material possessions (or people for that matter) for Jedi were raised and taught to be selfless and practice temperance. 

If Obi-Wan was flippant with his desires and had no foresight for the consequences of his actions, he would have already pushed Anakin up against the wall and kissed—

“I doubt I will be missed. Tell Padmé I say hello.” He couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped into his words.

He thought that was the last of it, but then Anakin was grabbing his hand, demanding his attention as he suddenly felt lightheaded at the innocent touch. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said seriously. “Please.”

It was sad how easily the Omega’s resolve crumbled.  _ If Anakin knew the power he held over him…. _

He bowed his head in acceptance. “I will go.”

  
  
  


Naboo was beautiful. A warm breeze and mild weather greeted them as they arrived. The clones unloaded from the transport ships, dressed in their blacks instead of their standard white armor for the first time in a long while. 

They glanced around curiously, and the Force glowed bright with their wonder and amazement. All they knew was war, and Obi-Wan was glad that they could enjoy the galaxy without the pretext of battles and hardships.

Senator Amidala was present at the hangar, done up in traditional Naboo regalia. Her long, thick hair was done up in intricate plaits, and she donned a flowy, teal dress that slipped off one delicate shoulder. 

Obi-Wan eyed the smooth skin with muted envy.

“Ani,” she beamed as she caught sight of the Alpha, and from the looks of it, they both desired to embrace the other but would not in front of such a large audience. 

“Padmé, it is so good to see you,” Anakin responded. He placed a hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder, the young padawan smiling brightly. “I’ve mentioned my padawan before to you, but this is Ahsoka Tano.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Senator.”

“You as well.” Padmé then turned and regarded her fellow Omega. “I am glad you joined us, Master Obi-Wan.” She bowed shallowly, and Obi-Wan returned it. 

“My men and I appreciate the invite, Senator. You are too kind and please extend my thanks to the Queen as well.”

Obi-Wan hoped his gratitude appeared sincere for it was, but the sight of Padmé always had the Omega’s own insecurities resurfacing. It wasn’t fair to her however, and he refused to be anything less than kind to their gracious host. 

Their time at Naboo was well spent. The Queen offered them all housing within the expansive palace, and their days were filled with festivities, shows, feasts, and apple time to unwind as if there wasn’t a deadly war tearing the Galaxy into two. 

Obi-Wan spent most of his time within the confines of his own room in deep meditation. He tried to show face as much as possible, but as the week progressed and the anniversary of the Trade Federation’s failed invasion loomed closer, a sort of heaviness had descended upon him, souring his mood and leaving him tired and antsy. 

The evening before the apex of the festival, Anakin slipped into his room. Obi-Wan closed the book that he had been attempting to read, peering up at his former padawan. 

“Follow me. I want to show you something,” the Alpha beckoned, and he went wordlessly. 

They found themselves in the palace gardens, a place where Obi-Wan, despite his love for plants, had not explored. They wandered for sometime, breathing in the warm air and enjoying the sights. 

The Omega would have thought that Anakin would use one of their last nights on Naboo tangled in the soft arms of the Senator. He wanted to ask where Padmé was, but it was the Alpha who broke the long silence first. 

He stroked a particularly vibrant flower with deep red and orange petals, colors akin to the sunset just forming in the horizon. “Millaflower,” he spoke simply. “When...When I was sixteen and smelled your scent for the first time, I couldn’t remember what it reminded me of.”

Obi-Wan flushed at the memory of the sudden and surprising heat. He didn’t know why Anakin was bringing it up now. 

_ You smell different. A good different, like flowers or _ —

“Millaflower,” Anakin repeated, plucking one flower from the bunch and bringing over to Obi-Wan. “You smell like a Millaflower underneath all those fucking suppressants.” He seemed almost angry for a moment, almost spitting out the word  _ suppressant  _ with disgust, before he softened. 

“Smell it,” he gently ordered, his mechanical hand—those  _ damn _ hands—coming up and resting on the back of his neck, leather-covered fingers pressing dangerously close towards his scent glands. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t and just followed the soft command, pressing his nose into the flower's pistil and breathing a lungful of the sweet aroma. He felt his body go pliant and mind clear as the flower’s scent filled his senses. 

Anakin chuckled at the Omega’s reaction. “It releases a calming chemical. Millaflowers are one of Naboo’s most popular exports. It’s used in the most expensive perfumes,” he supplied. “I’d like to think that I’m the only person in the whole Galaxy that knows of your true scent, Obi-Wan, that you smell like the most intoxicating and enchanting flower in existence.”

Anakin spoke those words softly as if they were a prayer, and Obi-Wan swayed slightly, mind feeling light with the flower’s chemicals, Anakin’s praise, and the possessive hand on his neck.  _ The Alpha liked his scent. The Alpha liked his scent. The Alpha liked his scent. The Alpha... _

Obi-Wan dared to look up and found himself falling into the depths of Anakin’s look, blue eyes almost black. They were like that for what seemed like hours, the sun falling out of sight. 

As the reds, oranges, and pinks gave way to inky blues and black, Obi-Wan suddenly fell out the spell. Licking his dry lips as he tore his eyes away. 

_ What the hell was that? _

“T-Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, voice uncharacteristically high. 

Anakin seemed like he wanted to say something more, but the Omega stepped away and Anakin’s hand fell away. 

_ Don’t do something stupid, _ Obi-Wan warned himself. He thought of Padmé, sweet Padmé with her honey, smooth voice and supple curves, an Omega fitted for an Alpha like Anakin if he so wished. 

Obi-Wan would never say anything to the Council, never take away from his apprentice’s happiness even if it hurt him and violated the Code. 

“It’s getting late,” he noted absentmindedly. “Tomorrow is a busy day. Apparently there will be a parade—”

“Obi-Wan, I  _ know _ .”

The Jedi Master stilled, ice suddenly filling his veins.  _ Anakin knows. Anakin knows how pathetic he is, knows his feelings.  _ The night which had been so warm and relaxing suddenly felt stifling. An apology was on the tip of his tongue. 

“I know what tomorrow is and how tough this whole week has been for you.”

Oh.

“Naboo was probably the last place in the Galaxy that you wanted to be, and I’m sorry for hauling you here, but I didn’t want you to be alone because I know that you still think of that day constantly. I know you still  _ blame _ —”

“Because I  _ am  _ to blame. Qui-Gon should have been your Master. Force knows he would have been better—”

“No!”

The next words died on Obi-Wan’s lips, shocked by the sheer intensity of Anakin’s denial. The Alpha took in a calming breath, also alarmed by his own outburst. His Force signature reached out, unsure and lost, but Obi-Wan met him with his own signature, placating and calming. 

“It’s just….I know I said things as a youngling that was unfair to you. I was nine and had no idea of the Force or world beyond Tatooine and slavery, and all I knew was that Qui-Gon had promised to teach me, and I took my frustrations out on you, but  _ please _ know Obi-Wan that the Force could not have given me a more perfect O-Master.”

Anakin reached out and took a shaking Obi-Wan into his arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.  _ Had he been shaking? How long had he been shaking? _

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Obi-Wan was reminded of a time together when they were in the Halls of Healing after Dooku’s escape, his padawan saying words to him that were almost identical.

_ It wasn’t his fault.  _

For the first time, Obi-Wan might have believed it. 

  
  
  


After Naboo, when they went back to the front lines, the gifts started. 

It started off innocently with a purple velvet box that revealed an array of tea bags. There was no name on the gift, so Obi-Wan had no idea who dropped off the mysterious box in his cabin on the ship. 

Upon further inspection, he realized how expensive the tea bag set was, a diverse set of flavors that could only be found on the rich and prosperous planets in the Galactic Core. 

Something warm bloomed in the Omega’s chest as his fingers ghosted over the velvet box. Tea was sparse while they were travelling, and if he did manage to get his hands on it, the flavors were unsurprisingly underwhelming. 

Whoever had bought the gift  _ for him _ , had no doubt splurged. 

“Have you tried it, yet?” Anakin asked the next day as they passed each other in the corridor. 

Obi-Wan paused, confused. “The tea,” Anakin clarified. 

The Omega raised an eyebrow in surprise. “That was you?”

“Of course,” Anakin replied nonchalantly. Before Obi-Wan could thank the Alpha, a hundred questions running through his mind, Anakin was bidding him goodbye. “Tell me which one is your favorite,” he said before disappearing around the corner. 

More gifts came: a bundle of Millaflowers, a smooth jade stone to facilitate meditation, and even a solid, silver bracelet. 

Obi-Wan had no idea what to make of these presents. He didn’t even know how Anakin came to acquire them for they were constantly on the move and barely had any time for themselves. 

He tried asking but he was only met with a secretive smirk. Obi-Wan thought of returning the sentiment, but then Anakin was making it adamant that he wanted nothing in return, confusing the Jedi Master even more. 

The gifts then turned in sweets, snacks, and other treats. 

Every week if they weren’t travelling through hyperspace, a new box was on his bed: colorfully decorated cookies, savory crackers and cheeses, or neatly squared fudge bars. 

It was too much, and Obi-Wan had never indulged himself this much on food. He thought of sharing the desserts and snacks with those aboard but thought that might be rude to Anakin, so he selfishlessly kept them for himself. 

Anakin rarely said anything about the treats, sometimes asking if he had tried the food yet but nothing more. 

At night, Obi-Wan would curl up at the head of his bed, and like a glutton, munched on two, three,  _ sometimes four  _ of the treats, taste buds dancing with new and powerful flavors. 

Food on the ship was a bland mush, and the Temple was similar, keeping meals simple. Only when Obi-Wan took a trip down to Dex’s Diner did he treat himself with nicely cooked and seasoned food. 

One day, when he walked into his quarters and saw his bed empty, he tried not to feel disappointed. It wasn’t so much that he missed the treats; it was that Obi-Wan enjoyed the fact that he knew Anakin was thinking about him, and for some strange reason wanted to make it known. 

He cleaned himself in the sonic and dressed down into a pair of leggings and his undershirt, ready for bed, until he heard a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Obi-Wan called softly, and the door slid open with a hiss, revealing Anakin, still dressed in his dark tunic and robe. He stepped inside, and the door closed behind him. 

“Hello there,” the Omega greeted, shifting uncomfortably, realizing how underdressed he felt and appeared. 

The Alpha held a package underneath his arm and smiled, walking over towards the Omega’s narrow bed, sitting down and motioning for Obi-Wan to follow suit. “I hope it isn’t too late, Master. I have a gift for you.”

Obi-Wan hesitantly sat down, all too aware of the hot press of their shoulders and thighs together. 

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, dear one,” Obi-Wan laughed, trying to make the heavy atmosphere lighter. “You’ve been spoiling me with all these frivolous gifts.”

Anakin laughed in return, undoing the silk tie on the front of the box. “I would not say these gifts are  _ frivolous _ , Master. They are well spent, and I enjoy spoiling you.”

Obi-Wan swallowed dryly, not sure what an appropriate response would be, but then the Alpha was unfolding the box and revealing a carton of egg-shaped chocolates, each dusted with white powdered sugar.

“I had these imported from Coreilla and picked them up on our last fuel stop.” Anakin delicately picked up one chocolate with his flesh fingers. “I wanted to see your expression when you tried it.”

Obi-Wan shyly reached out to take the treat from Anakin’s grasp, but he was too slow, and his former padawan was holding up the chocolate to his lips, an expectant look in his eyes. The Omega didn’t think, just leaned forward and took a bite, highly cognizant of the fact that Anakin’s fingers were millimeters away from his lips. 

The sweet, rich taste of the chocolate exploded on his tongue, and he hummed appreciatively as Anakin fed him the rest of the treat. 

Obi-Wan swallowed, a burning blush crawling from his cheeks to his collarbones. He tried to act casual, ignoring how strangely intimate the act of feeding someone by hand was. 

“You’re going to get me fat with how much food you’ve been giving me lately,” Obi-Wan joked, licking at his bottom lip. “You should have one.”

Anakin paused, contemplating as he stared down at his former Master. “On Tatooine, you could always tell who the richest slave owners were by how well fed their Omegas were. A well fed Omega was a sign of a well cared for Omega.”

_That...that_ _was a lot to unpack._ Anakin’s shields were up, so Obi-Wan had no idea what his apprentice truly meant by that statement. It almost sounded as if he was calling Obi-Wan his O—

“You’ve lost weight since the war started, Master,” Anakin continued, plucking another chocolate and pressing it into Obi-Wan’s awaiting mouth. 

That was true, but his weight loss was something hardly concerning. The war affected everyone in many ways.

The Omega made a noise of surprise this time as he bit into the treat. A tart filling suddenly poured into his mouth and he did his best to swallow all of it, but a tad escaped onto the corner of his lips. 

He went to wipe at it, blush burning even brighter, but Anakin was once again quicker, swiping at the filing with his index finger and sliding it into Obi-Wan’s already open mouth. 

He couldn’t help the strangled whine that escaped him.  _ This was too much like his fantasies. _ Perhaps too eagerly, Obi-Wan’s tongue cleaned the finger, utterly forgetting the tartness of the filling, zeroing in on the taste of Anakin’s skin. 

The Alpha tasted like he smelled,  _ petrichor _ . 

Obi-Wan leaned back, attempting to dislodge the finger from his mouth, but Anakin’s mechanical hand slid up his spine and curled around the nape of his neck, stilling him as his index finger  _ pressed further into his mouth and oh.  _

Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered shut, instincts taking over and allowing himself to follow the Alpha’s lead, timidly sucking on the finger. Anakin took a sharp breath in before sliding a second digit inside. 

The Omega let out another pitiful whine, drawn out and high pitched as the second finger filled his mouth.  _ He had no time to think, no time to process because his senses were suddenly overwhelmed with the touch, scent, and taste of the man next to him. _

“ _ Force _ , Obi-Wan,” Anakin cursed, voice deep and guttural. The Omega squirmed, wetness suddenly flooding  _ down there.  _ Could Anakin smell him? Smell his obvious arousal? 

“You’re so pretty like this, blushing so much and sucking so nicely on my fingers. Makes me imagine what your lips would look like wrapped around my—”

Anakin didn’t finish that thought because abruptly sirens were blaring and lights were flashing as the ship jostled suddenly. 

Obi-Wan gasped, jumping to his feet and pulling a tunic and robe from his closet. His mind which had been beautifully foggy was now more than alert. Anakin cursed again, rising to his feet as well. 

The ship was under attack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a SLUT for feedback, so please drop a comment and tell me what you thought
> 
> next (and most likely last) chapter....confessions, "and there was only one bed" classic trope, and sexy times. Hope you guys are excited.


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please enjoy this extra long finale***  
> my eyes hurt, I've been writing all day

General Grievous had launched a surprise attack on the Republic fleet, somehow acquiring the coordinates and mission plan. They easily fended off the attack with minimal casualties and destroyed ships at the cost of rerouting their coordinates, prematurely jumping into hyperspace, and abandoning their original objective. 

“We’ve suspected a mole for sometime now,” Mace Windu solemnly said, obvious frustration laced in his voice. “More and more plans have been compromised of late, and rumors have been circulating.”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest. “Why is the Council  _ just _ informing us of this now?”

Ahsoka sighed heavily, leaning against a control panel. She too had thrown herself from her cabin at the sound of the alarms and was visibly upset that their plans had been thwarted. Rex and Cody remained stoic as they watched the holovoid. 

Anakin stood on the opposite side of the bridge, a stormy look overtaking his features. His hair was disheveled, golden curls slightly sweaty and sticky to his temples from his pilot’s helmet. He had led a squadron of starfighters to push back Grievous’ forces. 

Obi-Wan averted his gaze quickly when he felt those blue eyes flicker to meet his. Anakin’s Force signature pressed insistently against his shields, no doubt probing for his thoughts and feelings, but the Omega pulled his shields tighter.

“They were mere  _rumors_ , Master Kenobi, but with this attack, our suspicions are confirmed and our priorities have shifted,” Mace remarked, tone clipped. “We have tentative reports from an informant behind enemy lines of a listening post that this mole must be utilizing to disperse classified information.”

“A  _ listening  _ post? Where?” Obi-Wan inquired.

“That is for you and Skywalker to discover. I’m sending you the location of our informant now to your datapad. The informant lives on a planet currently allied with Separatists, so we have not been able to communicate recently with her in case that our transmission would be leaked or hijacked.”

Cody scrolled through the datapad as the device beeped with a new message. “Vandor,” he said, eyebrows scrunched. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Obi-Wan tamped down on his initial reaction to groan in annoyance.  _ Of all the planets… _

“Vandor is located in the Sloo sector of the Mid-Rim. It’s cold, icy, and sparsely populated,” the Jedi Master supplied with a barely contained grimace. 

“Bring your coats, Kenobi and Skywalker. Our informant has no clue you both are coming, but I have also sent you her file, so you can more easily locate her.”

_ Wait, only Anakin and him were going? _

Ahsoka perked up. “What about me, Master Windu? I can go too! Somebody will need to watch Skyguy’s back.” Her excitement and eagerness was vivid and before Obi-Wan could offer his support for Ahsoka to accompany them, Mace was speaking again. 

“You, the 501st, and the 212th will be rendezvousing with Master Luminara and her 41st. The Council has tasked you with locating this mole. We need all hands on deck for this, little one.”

_ Shit.  _

Ahsoka leaned back and proudly smirked. The young padawan always relished missions away from himself and Anakin for it was another opportunity to showcase her competence and skill. 

Obi-Wan would be happy for her if he wasn’t currently freaking out. He could still taste the chocolate on his tongue and the recent memory had him feeling the phantom presence of Anakin’s fingers pressing into his mouth, had him replaying Anakin’s words over and over in his mind. 

_ You’re so pretty like this. _

Heat pooled in Obi-Wan’s belly, so he quickly redirected his thoughts; it would be  _ too _ embarrassing if anyone smelt his arousal, especially young Ahsoka. 

Anakin’s gaze was heavy on him, burning into his skin. As his blush slowly spread from the corners of his forehead and ears to the rest of his face, the Omega sought any route to flee to his cabin. 

“Is that all, Master Windu?”

“The Council has nothing else to disclose. May the Force be with you all.”

The blue hologram fizzled out and suddenly the bridge was lively and busy again. 

“General Kenobi, we will be coming out of hyperspace in eight hours. Vandor will only be a parsec away. A freighter is being prepared for you and General Skywalker,” Waxer notified him. 

Obi-Wan nodded and when he saw that Anakin was occupied, he dismissed the Lieutenant, telling him that if anybody needed him, to find him when they were out of hyperspace. 

On the freighter towards Vandor, Anakin attempted to bring up....whatever happened between them. Obi-Wan didn’t even know how to characterize it. It wasn’t something distinct and purposeful like a kiss. 

He had sucked on Anakin’s fingers, and his padawan had said some kind (hot) words in return. _ What was Obi-Wan supposed to make of that? Did that even mean anything? _

He knew they should talk about it, and Obi-Wan was hardly one to turn away from confrontation, but he wasn’t ready to hear whatever Anakin had to say because there was a chance, big or small, that it would be the stingy words of rejection. 

He wasn’t stupid. He’s seen the way Padmé and Anakin looked at each other, their stolen glances, touches, and secret meetings. 

Anakin would tell him that it was a mistake, and he knew he couldn’t bear to hear those words. He needed time before the inevitable. 

“Not now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan pleaded. “We have a job to do. Let’s focus on locating this informant and extracting the information that we need.”

The Jedi Master ignored the flash of hurt on his former apprentice’s face, but he was glad when no more words were spoken as they approached Vandor. They landed the inconspicuous and unmarked freighter on a small plateau halfway up a mountain that Fort Ypso was situated. 

The rest of the hike up was short but bitter. The wind whipped painfully, almost taking Obi-Wan off his feet numerous times, and the Omega simultaneously cursed and melted when Anakin wrapped a steadying arm around his waist. He said a word of thanks, but the wind howled so loudly that his voice was drowned out. 

For how underdeveloped and unsettled Vandor was, Fort Ypso stood beautifully in stark contrast. The snowy village was small and the stone buildings were close together as if they too were huddling for warmth. 

The name on file for the mysterious informant was Lilhan Elbra, a human woman, who worked at the town’s only Lodge. The picture revealed a middle aged woman with dark skin and coily hair. 

They had to be as quick as possible. A scan of the planet had shown minimal Separatist army presence, only a few droids stationed at the planet's capital, but Vandor was unfriendly towards the Republic as a place all too forgotten and abandoned by the Galactic Senate. They could not draw attention towards themselves or the fact that they were Jedi. 

“Welcome,” a voice croaked. A young Twi’lek girl with orange skin was at the front desk. She tossed a long lekku over one shoulder as she assessed the two of them. She appeared bored. “Reservation?” 

The lobby of the Lodge seemed entirely too quiet after the loud howling of wind, and unfortunately, it wasn’t much warmer inside. Obi-Wan stepped forward. 

“Uh, no reservation. We are here to speak Lilhan Elbra.”

The Twi'lek narrowed her eyes before shrugging. “She isn’t here right now.”

“When will she be back?”

She shrugged again and turned away, a blunt dismissal. 

_ Of course, this had to be more difficult than it should be.  _

Thankfully, Anakin stepped forward. “Please, we’ve travelled a long way to talk to her, and we are in a bit of a rush.” She regarded Anakin with something a lot less dismissive, actually meeting his eyes. She sighed. 

“Lilhan is collecting firewood. She won’t be back until tomorrow. I can offer you a room in the meantime.”

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan, a question in his look.

“We will wait for her return back aboard our own ship. Thank you for the offer.”

The Twi’lek gestured to the outside. “I won’t stop you, but we got a snowstorm rolling in any second. If you get caught in it, no one will be able to help you.”

As if on cue, the wind whistled so loudly that the wooden doors blew open briefly, bringing a strong current of coldness and snow. 

“We’ll take the room.”

  
  
  


Obi-Wan didn’t know if it was the universe, his awful luck, or the young girl at the desk who decided to mess with him. Honestly, it was probably all three. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor.”

The Omega glanced at the hardwood floor. It was old, the wood slightly rotting, and most of all it  _ looked  _ cold. 

“Don’t be silly. We’ve shared beds before.”

And they have. Not recently, and definitely not with this tension hanging between them before, but sharing a single, narrow bed shouldn’t be a big deal. 

Except it was, but Obi-Wan was doing his best to remain calm.

The eight hours in hyperspace and the trip to Vandor unfortunately was not spent sleeping, and the Omega was feeling it now: a heaviness in his limbs, the pain behind his eyes, and sluggishness in his movements. He knew Anakin wasn’t much better. 

They somehow maneuvered themselves underneath the thin comforter; the bed was too small for them to lay shoulder to shoulder, so they laid on their sides, only a sliver of free space in between their bodies. 

They had shed their outer robes which were damp and slightly stiff from the snow, but the coldness still lingered, squeezing underneath their skin and making sleep unattainable. From the pattern of his breathing, Obi-Wan knew that Anakin too had trouble sleeping. 

After a restless hour, the Alpha finally broke. “Obi-Wan.”

“Go to sleep, Anakin.”

“Take off your clothes.”

“ _ What?” _

His former padawan offered no explanation. He just sat up and tore off his tabard, tunic, and undershirt until all that was left was the broad gorgeous expanse of his chest. It was dark in the room, but the raging snowstorm outside the window offered enough light for the Omega to take in an eyeful. 

When Anakin lifted his hips and slid off his pants, Obi-Wan finally averted his gaze, staring up at the ceiling. “Anakin, what are you doing.” He meant for his voice to sound harsh, but instead it was tight and breathless. 

“Body heat,” he answered, leaning over his Master and pushing Obi-Wan’s own tabard and tunic up and off his body. Dazedly, the Omega allowed him, only stopping when his hands reached towards the waistband of his pants. 

“I can do that,” Obi-Wan squeaked. There were so many reasons why this wasn’t a good deal, the biggest of all was that he did not know if he could control his body’s natural reactions when there was so much of Anakin’s skin on display. 

But the Alpha was right. A slight tremor had worked its way in Obi-Wan’s bones, and body heat was the best way to warm the both of them up in this icy wasteland. 

He took off his pants and dropped them neatly off the side of the bed, glad that Anakin was also still clad in his underwear.

The Alpha immediately wrapped his mechanical arm around the Omega’s waist and pulled him to his chest, destroying the sliver of space that had existed between them. Anakin was a furnace, and warmth quickly spread across Obi-Wan’s back from where it touched Anakin. 

His former padawan nuzzled into the back of his neck, nose buried in ginger locks.

With warmth seeping back into his body, the tremors faded away and soon the heaviness of sleep followed. However, Obi-Wan couldn’t have been asleep for more than ten minutes when he heard a sound. 

It eased him out of his sleep slowly, a deep fluttering sound, and it took a moment for him to realize the sound was reverberating from Anakin. 

The Alpha was  _ purring.  _

He didn’t know what to make of it, alphas and omegas purred for different reasons. Omega purring was a self-soothing mechanism when faced with stressful situations, but alphas often purred when relaxed or content. 

The sound halted as soon as it started. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

Obi-Wan did something he probably shouldn’t have and turned around until they were face to face, so close that he could feel Anakin’s breath fan across his features. 

He didn’t answer the question, and with courage usually reserved for the battlefield, he lifted a trembling hand to Anakin’s chest, fingers splaying across the golden skin. At Obi-Wan’s touch, the sound started again, loud enough that he could feel the vibrations. 

Just like in the palace gardens at Naboo, time seemed to still, only Anakin’s purrs and Obi-Wan’s heavy breathing filled the silence. Even the roar of the snowstorm outside faded to a white noise. 

“I haven’t scented you in a long time, Master,” Anakin remarked out of the blue.

It was too dark to accurately read his expression. 

“I used to scent you all the time when I was younger. I couldn’t help myself. It almost hurt if I couldn’t smell myself on you.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “You’ve grown out of the need.”

“No, I don’t think I ever did.” He laid his much larger hand over his former Master’s much more delicate one. “I just got better at controlling myself.”

The Omega’s head started feeling floaty again, a sensation he was familiar with whenever he was overwhelmed with the scent of petrichor. 

“With you so close like this, it is becoming unbearable again.” His grip on Obi-Wan’s hand tightened. “May I?”

Obi-Wan didn’t need to ask for clarification; he knew exactly what Anakin was asking for. He made another bad decision. “Yes.”

He wasn’t expecting a possessive hand to curl around his neck or for Anakin to swing a leg over his torso, straddling him. There was a heavy moment between them where the two simply stared at each other, a current of emotions rushing in the both of them but untouched and unknown by the other as a result of the stubborn shields. 

Then like a dam breaking, Anakin leaned down and pressed his lips to the hollow of Obi-Wan’s throat, right where his heartbeat could be felt. He didn’t mean to flinch, and the Alpha paused briefly. “Relax,” he whispered before continuing. 

Obi-Wan attempted to stay as still as possible as Anakin resumed, running his lips and hands all over the Omega’s exposed skin, all the way down to his pale stomach and up to his jaw, leaving nothing untouched. 

The hand around his neck stayed there, not enough pressure to cut off his air but enough that  _ he could feel it _ . 

Obi-Wan fumbled with his hands, unsure what to do, settling to place them on his padawan’s shoulders. 

Pheromones rolled of Anakin in waves, smelling distinctly of arousal. He was sure, despite his suppressants, that he smelled the same, his cock half-hard and twitching between his thighs. 

He thanked the universe that Anakin neither made a comment on it nor did more than scent him. He wouldn’t have stopped him if the Alpha decided he wanted more, wanted to take more, and if that didn’t prove how weak he was, he didn’t know what would. 

Anakin didn’t however. 

When he had finished his scenting, and Obi-Wan laid spread out beneath him, flushed and panting, skin tingling, Anakin said nothing, merely turned over on his side, taking the Omega back into his arms

He refused to think that Anakin had never scented him like that before, had never taken his time like that, had never been so gentle. He could have spent that entire night, analyzing the implications and meaning behind his actions. Instead, he fell deep asleep, dreaming of the phantom feeling of Anakin’s lips hot upon his skin.

Lilhan Elbra proved to be most helpful. Neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin questioned the source of her information as apparently she had been a longstanding ally to the Republic, and they were too much in a hurry. Her information and the coordinates would be corroborated by separate entities.

Once they were back in hyperspace, out of Separatists territory, they transmitted the information about the alleged listening post back to Coruscant, their new destination. Destroying said listening post would be the task for another Jedi; apparently they would be spending some time back at the Temple. 

No words were spoken between them on the trip back, and before Obi-Wan knew it, they were going their separate ways again as the Jedi Master was alone summoned before the Council to give his report, and Anakin was off to make contact with Ahsoka and Master Luminara. 

The debriefing was succinct fortunately for Obi-Wan’s mind was far away, wondering if Anakin and him would ever have their much needed conversation. 

He was thinking of just that when he made his way back to his quarters, thinking so in depth that he didn’t realize the other presence in his small living room until he had closed the door behind him.

“Anakin,” he gasped, startled. 

The other stood up from where he had been seated on the couch. Obi-Wan straightened his posture and relaxed his shoulders. If they were going to have this conversation now, he would be mature and professional about it. He wouldn’t show his hurt, his desperation—

“I have another gift for you.”

The Omega raised both of his eyebrows in disbelief because yes he did, yet another gift sat in the Alpha’s open palms, wrapped in thin, golden tissue paper. 

Obi-Wan sighed. “Anakin, you need to stop. This is all too much. We should—”

Anakin stepped forward until he was directly in front of his former Master, pushing the gift into his hands. “Obi-Wan, please. Open the gift.” 

Anakin’s eyes sparkled, and they conveyed a mix of hope and patience. Obi-Wan sighed again, taking the gift from the Alpha’s grasp and tearing easily into the thin tissue paper. 

In his hand, a beautifully knit blanket unfolded, heavy and warm. He had seen blankets such as these in markets and bazaars across the Galaxy. They served a special purpose. 

“Is this...is this…?”

“A nesting blanket? Yes.”

Obi-Wan remembered his last heat again, the heat he had experienced when Anakin was only sixteen. His padawan had given him his own clothes, so the scent could comfort him. That was something mates  _ or _ family typically did. 

_ This _ however...gifting a nesting blanket to any Omega was different, something usually reserved for between mates.  _ Did Anakin understand what he was doing?  _

Obi-Wan attempted to laugh, but it sounded fake even to his own ears. “I’m really flattered, Anakin, but if I didn’t know any better, I would mistake this as a courting gift.”

He laughed again, but it quickly died off after examining Anakin’s expression.

“It is,” the Alpha said. 

“What?”

“It’s a courting gift.”

Obi-Wan blinked. 

“So were the flowers, the stone, the bracelet, and all the treats. They were all courting gifts.”

The Omega looked down at the blanket in his hands as gears started to turn in his mind and dots started to connect.  _ The names, the favors, the touches… _

“Obi-Wan, I’m courting you. I’ve been courting you for these past few months.”

The Jedi Master remained silent, so his former padawan continued. 

“I’ve been trying to make it as obvious as I could. I thought you finally understood in the garden then I thought you finally understood with the gifts...and the chocolate.”

“W-Why didn’t you say anything?”

This time Anakin laughed. “To be honest, I enjoyed watching your obliviousness. It was endearing. Snips and I had a bet on when you were going to figure it out. She now owes  _ me  _ money,” he said with a smug grin.

“Ahsoka knows?”

“She figured it out on her own. She is pretty observant.”

“What about Padmé?”

“Padmé wasn’t in on the bet.”

“No, no.  _ What about Padmé? _ I thought...I was sure you two were together. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you were married.”

“Why would you think that?”

Obi-Wan gaped. “Don’t play stupid with me now, Anakin.”

“Okay, okay,” he relented, scratching the back of his head in what looked like embarrassment. “I admit that I was  _ a little _ infatuated with her when I was nineteen, and we  _ might  _ have fooled around when we were on Naboo together, but after the war started, I started to realize some things.” He cleared his throat, suddenly deadly serious. “I realized I was in love with you, that I’ve always been in love with you.” 

Obi-Wan felt like his head was about to split into two. He had been perfectly content with loving Anakin from a far for the rest of his life, and now the love he thought had been hopeless was actually requited? 

He couldn’t believe reality;  _ he shouldn’t believe reality.  _

“The Code,” Obi-Wan said simply, those two words conveying so much. Anakin rolled his eyes regardless, but the Omega pressed on. “We can’t. Not only will the Council expel us from the Order, but there is a war, Anakin.  _ We can’t.” _

Anakin took in a deep and steadying breath. “I won’t force you into anything you don’t want, Obi-Wan, but only if it’s something you actually don’t want. The Code is absolute bantha shit, and I know you know it. Jedi are asked to be compassionate, but we can’t form attachments? We are asked to be sympathetic but must release our emotions to find peace? It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s to keep us from straying from the light.”

“I’ve been most tempted by the dark when I try to follow the Code, Master. It’s stifling.” Anakin confessed. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”  _ How much of a failure was he?  _ He knew of the Council’s concerns about Anakin’s loyalty to the Order and the light, but he was also so sure in his apprentice, could never imagine a universe in which Anakin fell. 

“I didn’t need to. Whenever I look at you, I’m reminded of why I do what I do, what I’m destined to do. My attachment to you keeps me anchored in the light.”

Anakin cupped Obi-Wan's jaw, and the Omega wondered how ever he could have been oblivious to his former padawan’s feelings with the way Anakin looked at him. “If you don’t want this, tell me,” he whispered, blue eyes locked onto trembling pink lips. 

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything. He had given so much to the Order, he could have this. 

Then their lips were touching, and their shields crumbled. The Omega’s knees went weak as he was assaulted with a current of love, affection, and fondness, but Anakin was there, arms tight around his waist to keep him grounded. 

Obi-Wan clutched the blanket to his chest as Anakin pressed his lips harder against his own, and then the Jedi Master was opening up his mouth, allowing the Alpha to slip his tongue inside.

Anakin kissed like he was trying to consume him, and the only thing Obi-Wan could do was go docile in his embrace and allow himself to be kissed until he was forced to break apart, gasping for breath. 

“I love it when you blush. I’ve always wondered if other parts of your body blush just as red.”

“ _ Force, _ Anakin.”

The Alpha nodded to the nesting blanket still clutched in his arms. “It’s brand new, so it doesn’t smell like anything yet. We can change that. If you want, of course.”

“How do you suppose we do that?”

Anakin smiled so bright, it was almost blinding. “I’m going to fuck you on it.”

Obi-Wan sputtered, hating and loving how absolutely undignified his former apprentice could be. Then, completely unnecessarily, Anakin sweeped the Omega into his arms, bridal style and proceeded towards the bedroom. 

“I am perfectly capable of walking,” he protested.

“Just let me take care of you, princess.”

He made another strangled noise, slapping a hand over his mouth in barely contained humiliation. 

“I knew that was your favorite nickname,” Anakin teased.

“Shut up.”

The Alpha chuckled, and Obi-Wan was beginning to realize that Anakin laughing was perhaps his favorite sound. 

They entered the bedroom, and the Alpha gently set Obi-Wan back on his feet and plucked the nesting blanket from his hands, spreading the intricate knit quilt across the beige duvet. The Omega gulped nervously as Anakin turned back towards him, eyes dark with desire and pheromones filling the small room. 

No words were spoken as his former padawan reached out, fingers tightening on the bottom of Obi-Wan’s tunic. Anakin looked at him for permission, and he nodded. 

Anakin undressed him slowly, almost reverently as he peeled off every article of clothing until he stood there, naked and trembling, the evidence of his arousal and attraction on full display. The Alpha didn’t touch right away, merely appraising the smooth lines of Obi-Wan’s lithe form, his narrow hips, and pale, freckled thighs. 

“Y-You should know,” the Jedi Master stuttered, a confession bubbling in his throat. “I’m a...I’ve never—”

“I know,” Anakin said kindly, saving Obi-Wan from having to say those words. 

“Am I that obvious?”

Anakin shook his head. “I might have been fooled by your habit of flirting with the enemy, but you’re much too modest for your own good. I’m glad though.” Anakin placed a hand on his hip and watched with rapt fascination as Obi-Wan’s cock twitched in anticipation. “Am I the first to touch you like this?”

Then the Alpha wrapped his hand around where the Omega was aching. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan moaned, shocked by the pleasure that a touch that was not his own could bring and how small his cock appeared in Anakin’s hand, encompassing the entirety of it. 

“I knew you would be cute down here as well,  _ Master _ .” Anakin said the title in a teasing tone as he began to pump his fist. “It’s so red and wet, look.”   


Obi-Wan  _ was  _ looking, and he blushed as he watched a pearl of precum bead at the head of his cock. 

“I can smell your slick, Obi-Wan. I smelled you when we were on Vandor too. Do you like it when I scent you? When you smell of me?”

“Yes!” Obi-Wan moaned louder as Anakin simultaneously licked a long wet stripe up his neck and reached around with his other hand to grope his ass. “Please, please.”

“Please, what?”

Obi-Wan licked his lips. “Take off your clothes. I want to see you, please.”

Anakin’s smile widened. “Anything you want.”

The Alpha was a lot less patient with his own clothes, ripping off his tunic and pants with a fervor and flinging them to the ground. When he pushed down his underwear, he tried not to stare but found himself mesmerized. 

He knew biologically Alphas were larger, not only in stature and build but also  _ elsewhere _ . However, he couldn’t help but feel intimidated as he drank in the sight of Anakin’s large and thick cock, so much bigger than his own that it was almost comical. A thrill ran up his spine as well, wet hole clenching as he knew that would be filled to the brim momentarily. 

He knew the Alpha was preening as the Omega gawked in amazement, but he said nothing more to fuel Anakin’s already sizable ego.

“Will you present for me?”

Anakin didn’t need to ask; Obi-Wan’s instincts took over as he turned his back and knelt on the bed, slowly bending over and arching his back, pressing his burning face into the nesting blanket. 

The Alpha’s hands were on him in seconds, rough hands palming Obi-Wan’s ass and pulling the cheeks apart, exposing the small, pink, fluttering hole. It glistened with slick that also smeared Obi-Wan’s inner thighs. The slick was impossibly sweet smelling despite the suppressants. 

“I can’t wait to fuck you,” Anakin confessed, wasting no time and pressing one finger inside all the way to the third knuckle. Obi-Wan cried out, fingers tightly gripping the blanket. “Ever since my first rut, I’ve wanted you under me, calling my name and begging me to fill you up. I’m going to have you so many ways, Obi-Wan, until you don’t even remember your name.”

Anakin inserted another thick finger, and the Jedi Master tried not to think that Anakin was only fifteen when he had his first rut, far too young to be having those kinds of thoughts about his Master. 

Obi-Wan pressed back eagerly as the Anakin’s fingers found that bundle of nerves that had pleasure zapping across his nerve endings and his toes curling. “Right there,” Obi-Wan mumbled incoherently into the sheets. 

He pleaded for more, expecting another finger, not Anakin’s wet tongue probing at his hole, tasting his slick. He jumped at the strange sensation, an admonishment on his tongue that quickly shifted into another ragged moan. 

“That’s incredibly uncivilized,” Obi-Wan panted, but Anakin knew from the sound of his voice, he was not complaining. 

He licked and sucked at the pink hole as he continued to finger the Omega open. “So sweet,” he complimented, and Obi-Wan basked in the praise. 

Anakin added a third finger, and the stretch was glorious. “Now,” he cried out after a few more tortuous minutes. “Fuck me now, I’m ready.”

The Alpha laughed, his fingers slipping free with a wet squelch that Obi-Wan was too horny to be embarrassed about. Abruptly, hands on his hips were flipping him over and onto his back. The Omega’s cock drooled freely onto his stomach, leaving a sticky mess. 

Anakin was stroking his own cock, an obscene image that was so much better than Obi-Wan’s imaginations. “I want to knot you, Obi-Wan. Can I?” Now, the Alpha was begging. “Please, let me stuff you full of my cum. I’ve fucking  _ dreamed  _ of pumping you full of my cum, would you like that?”

A gush of slick rushed out of Obi-Wan at Anakin’s words. The primal part of him was ecstatic that his Alpha—wow,  _ his  _ Alpha—wanted to mark him in such a way. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he rambled, and then Anakin was grabbing his legs, gripping his thighs so tightly that it would no doubt leave bruises and pushed them back, folding him nearly in half. “Hold yourself like this,” Anakin ordered, and Obi-Wan complied. 

The Alpha gripped his cock again, rubbing the bulbous head across Obi-Wan’s hole, slicking up his cock. 

Anakin leaned over the Omega, capturing his lips in another earth-shattering kiss as he began to push his cock past the tight ring of muscle. Obi-Wan was tight, but opened up so beautifully as if he was made to be fucked by the Alpha’s fat cock. 

He squirmed and whimpered as inch by inch, he was stretched wider and wider until he thought he might be split in two. “Oh, Force,” he groaned. All the pressure and pleasure bordered on  _ too much _ . 

Then, he felt Anakin’s hips pressed against his, and the Alpha stilled.  _ It was overwhelming how full he was.  _

But still he craved more. 

“Fuck me, Alpha, please.” His voice sounded far off as if it was not his own. 

The title must have broken something in Anakin, because with a growl ripping from his throat, he pulled out until only his cock’s head remained sheathed in the Omega’s tight heat before snapping forward with frightening intensity. 

Obi-Wan screamed. 

Anakin fucked like a machine, perfectly in control of his movements but with so much power. He set a punishing pace that rendered Obi-Wan helpless, only capable of holding his legs to his chest as Anakin thrusted into him. 

Tears escaped him, leaving wet tracks down his cheeks and into his red beard as he sobbed. “Please, please I need—” Another moan was wrenched from him.

“What do you need, Obi-Wan. Tell me.”

“Your fingers. I need them.”

Anakin understood exactly what he needed, shoving three durasteel digits in his mouth until they brushed the back of his throat. “I’m beginning to think you have an oral fixation, Obi-Wan. Don’t worry, after I knot you, I’ll fuck that pretty, pink mouth of yours.”

The Omega sucked greedily and messily on the mechanical fingers, letting the pornographic words wash over him. Drool spilled from the corners of his mouth as he imagined Anakin feeding him his thick cock, fucking his face until Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled in the back of his head. 

“You’re going to be dripping with my cum, sweetheart, from every hole. I’m going to fill you up so much that I’ll have to buy a plug for you, keep you full for the entire day.”

A particularly strong thrust had Obi-Wan practically squealing, dropping his legs from where they had been tight against his chest and wrapping them around Anakin’s strong hips.

“I’m gonna get you pregnant. You’re gonna be so heavy with my pups,  _ our pups. _ ”

Obi-Wan  _ knew _ that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. He was still on suppressants, which conveniently acted as birth control as well, but the thought of being full with Anakin’s pups was a thought he had never considered before. Leaving the order, settling down, and having children were luxuries, he never dared to dream of. 

Until now. 

Obi-Wan came with a silent scream, spine arching up in a gorgeous bow as his little cock shot white spurts across his stomach. 

Anakin didn’t slow down as the Omega shook with overstimulation, tears freely streaming down his face. Obi-Wan was not able to form a single thought, only uttering punched out  _ ahs  _ as he was fucked into like a ragdoll. 

“Amazing,” Anakin breathed in his ear as his knot began to swell and catch at Obi-Wan’s swollen rim. “You’re so good for me. Force, I love you.”

_ Good.  _ The word echoed and bounced off the walls in Obi-Wan’s mind. All he wanted was to be good for Anakin. 

The knot swelled large enough that long strokes became short and curt. The Alpha’s lips latched onto his mating gland, nipping and thankfully not biting, not yet. There would have to be conversation before something as poignant as a mating bite were to occur. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan said, voice incredibly small and muffled around the fingers still stuffed in his mouth. “Knot me.”

With a wild snap of his hips, the knot finally caught, and Anakin was cumming deep inside Obi-Wan’s womb. The sensation of the hot cum and the knot stretching him even wider sent another onslaught of pleasure wringing through his body; Obi-Wan’s soft, spent cock convulsed, releasing another, pitiful spurt of cum. 

Anakin groaned deeply, riding the aftershocks of his powerful orgasm, Obi-Wan impossibly tight and wet around his cock. 

After several long moments, where only heavy breathing filled the emptiness, Anakin said, “I’m crushing you, aren’t I?”

Obi-Wan laughed. The Alpha was quite heavy, draped across his chest, but did not wish for his former padawan to move. 

He was quite content where he was. 

  
  
  


“I still have some questions, I suppose. Well, one question,” Obi-Wan began, sipping slowly at his steaming cup of tea. 

Anakin leaned against the headboard of the bed, hand absentmindedly squeezing the flesh of his Omega’s thigh. They had gone two more rounds until the room stunk of sex, slick, and pheromones, and Obi-Wan’s mind reached that floaty, far away space. 

“Go on.”

“What of Padmé?”

Anakin groaned. “I have told you. I have no—”

Obi-Wan waved a hand. “I know of your feelings. You’ve, um, made them quite clear, but what of Padmé’s feelings?” 

Anakin laughed. “No need to worry about Padmé. I was much more infatuated with her than she was ever with me.” His hand moved further up Obi-Wan’s bare thigh, towards his hip, heating up the sensitive skin. “And anyways, Padmé was most hopeful in aiding me with courting you.”

“What do you mean?”

Anakin shrugged. “I hardly know of the proper manner in which you court an omega. Neither Tatooine nor the Temple taught me much, you know that. So, it was Padmé who guided me and offered me advice.”

“So all of those secret meetings...were about how to properly court  _ me _ ?”

Anakin leaned forwards, placing a chaste kiss on Obi-Wan’s forehead, temple, and chin before planting a firm one on awaiting lips. 

“Don’t seem so shocked, Obi.”

“It’s just that you’ve gone through so much trouble for me. I don’t even require a courtship, Anakin. It is much too traditional, not reserved for someone...someone like me.”

Anakin shook his head vehemently. “You think much too lowly of yourself. It pains me.” He plucked the teacup from Obi-Wan’s hand, placing it on the bedside table before pulling the Jedi Master into his arms. “You deserve everything in this Galaxy and more, and I wish to give it to you if you’ll allow me”

The words soothed Obi-Wan’s insecurities, insecurities he wasn’t sure would ever go away, but at this moment, seemed beautifully quiet. 

_ I love you, _ Obi-Wan sent through the bond, not sure if he trusted his voice. 

Love circulated so strongly through their Force bond that he didn’t need to hear the words back at the moment; he merely melted into Anakin’s arms, fulfilled by the fact that he had been chosen, and he had chosen Anakin in return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, YAY. For the second time ever, I have finished a fic (my first time, was a bad-boy werewolf story on wattpad when I was thirteen....it was pretty popular, even though it was horrendously written)
> 
> As you can see, I have tentatively made this a series with the hopes (after a break) that I will add multiple one-shots in this universe. Please, comment what you would like to see, as smutty or as fluffy or as angsty as your imaginings take you. I will need the inspiration. You can either subscribe to me or subscribe the series to see updates!!!
> 
> Also please comment your general feedback for this story :) as you can see, this is not edited AT ALL (hence the typos you have probably found) but let me know what you enjoyed this most :)


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